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SALMAGUNDI 



WHIM -WHAMS AND OPINIONS 



OF 



LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 



^WVVU , Wj£$*1\ 



AND OTHERS. 



In hoc est hoax, cum quiz et jokesez, 

Et smokem, toastfm, roastem folksez, 

Fee, faw, fum. 



Psalmcmatar. 



With baked, and broiled, and stewed, and toasted, 
And fried, and boiled, and smoked and roasted, 
We treat the town. 



fiottUoit: 

PK1NTED AND PUBLISHED BY J. LIMBIRD, 143, STRAND, 
(Near Somerset /Joit.se.) 



1824. 



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PREFACE 



The early productions of men of genius always possess a peculiar interest, 
and not unfrequently a freshness and an originality which do not belong to 
their more matured works. We do not mean to contend that this is the case 
with the following essays which were principally, if not entirely, written by 
Washington Irving, since so well known to the public by the " Sketch Book," 
" Bracebridge Hall/' and the " Tales of a Traveller." 

Mr. Irving is a native of the United States of America, and he has been 
singularly fortunate in removing the prejudices which existed against the 
literary talents of his countrymen. It is but a few years ago that our critics 
all spoke of American literature with a sneer, and as totally unworthy of 
notice ; indeed it was treated with so much contempt, that persons unac- 
quainted with the productions of the American press might be led to doubt 
that it yielded any thing better than a newspaper essay, or the calculations of 
an almanack. This ignorance, and this prejudice, have alike vanished before 
the talents of Mr. Irving ; it is true that some novels which displayed consi- 
derable genius reached England before Mr. Irving's " Sketch Book," but it 
was the latter work which first called the public attention to the infant re- 
public of letters in the United States ; and it is but justice to say, that England 
has made the amende honorable by a frank and honest acknowledgement of 
its claims. 

Although Mr. Irving more nearly approaches the style of our own admired 
Goldsmith, than any living writer, yet he has been educated in a different 
school. Mr. Irving's style is, perhaps, purely American ; its ground-work 
is, no doubt, English, but the legends of the Dutch, the rude disposition of 
the Indian, and the romantic scenery of his native land, have all had their 
influence over him. The forte of Mr. Irving lies in description, and his de- 
lineations are at once bold, spirited, and faithful. In the portraying of scenes 
ol low life, or of ludicrous situations, he is peculiarly happy, nor is he de- 



VI PREFACE. 

iicient in scenes of the tender and pathetic ; there is a freedom in his sketches 
which shows how naturally they are produced, and a delicacy which proves 
that they emanate from a well regulated mind. 

The " Salmagundi " was the first literary effort of Mr. Irving, and although 
it was sometime before it crossed the Atlantic, yet from the moment of its 
publication it was a great favourite in the United States, where it was sup- 
posed to be the joint efforts of several literati. On the merits of these 
sprightly essays it is unnecessary to dwell, since they have been recognized 
and acknowledged in both hemispheres. It may, however, be necessary to 
state, that the new edition now offered to the public, though more elegantly 
printed and embellished than those that have preceded it, is published at 
half the price of the cheapest. 



CONTENTS. 



Page. 

No. 1 Editor's Advertisement 1 

Introduction to the Work ... 2 

Theatrics — by Will Wizard 5 

New- York Assembly — by A. Ever- 
green ----- 6 

No. 2 Launcelot Langstaff's Account 

of his Friends 8 

Mr. Wilson's Concert — by A. Ever- 
green ....-- 10 
Some Account of Pindar Cockloft - 11 
Poetical Address from Pindar Cockloft 13 
Advertisement - - - - ib. 
No. 3. — Account of Mustapha Rub-a- 
dub Keli Khan - - - !4 
Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli 

Khan to Asem Hacchem - - 15 
Fashions — by A. Evergreen - - - 17 
Fashionable Morning-Dress for Walk- 
ing - - - - - 18 
The Progress of Salmagundi - - ib. 
Poetical Proclamation — from the Mill 

of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. - - 20 
No. 4 Some Account of Jeremy Cock- 
loft the younger - - - 2 1 
Memorandums for a Tour to be enti- 
tled " The Stranger in New- 
Jersey, or Cockney Travelling," 
by Jeremy Cockloft the younger 22 



No. 5. — Introduction to a Letter from 
Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan 

Letter from Mustapha to Abdallah 
Eb'n al Rahab 

Account of Will Wizard's Expedition 
to a Modern Ball — by A. Ever- 
green - 

Poetical Epistle to the Ladies — from 
the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. 
No. 6.— Account of the Family of the 
Cocklofts-' - 

Theatrics — by William Wizard, Esq. 
No. 7 Letter from Mustapha Rub-a- 
dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem 

Poetical Account of Ancient Times — 
from the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, 
Esq 

Notes on the above — by Will Wizard, 
Esq. 
No. 8 — Anthony Evergreen's Account 
of his friend LangstafF 

On Style — by William Wizard, Esq. 

The Editors and the Public 
No. 9. — Account of Miss Charity Cock- 
loft 

From the Elbow-Chair of the Author 

Letter from Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to 
Asem Hacchem - 



Pag?:. 



24 



- 25 



29 

31 

32 
37 

40 



44 
. 45 

4(i 

40 



57 



CONTENTS. 



Poetry— from the Mill of Pindar Cock- 
loft, Esq 

No. 10. — Introduction to the Number - 

Letter from Demi-Semiquaver to 
Launcelot LangstafF, Esq. 

Note by the Publisher - 
No. 11. — Letter from Mustapha Rub-a- 
dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem 

Account of " Mine Uncle John" 
No. 12.— Christopher Cockloft's Com- 
pany - 

The Stranger at Home, or a Tour in 
Broadway — by Jeremy Cockloft 
the younger - 

Introduction to Pindar Cockloft's Poem 

A Poem — from the Mill of Pindar 
Cockloft, Esq. - 

No. 13. — Introduction to Will Wizard's 
Plans for Defending our Harbour 

" Plans for Defending our Harbour" 
— by William Wizard, Esq. 

A Retrospect, or " What you Will" 

To Readers and Correspondents 
No. 14. — Letter from Mustapha Rub-a- 
dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem 

Cockloft Hall— by L. LangstafF 

Theatrical Intelligence — by William 
Wizard, Esq 



Page. 

60 
61 

62 
64 

65 
69 

72 



No. 15 — Sketches from Nature — by A. 

Evergreen, Gent. - - - 100 
On Greatness— by L. LangstafF, Esq. 103 
No. 16 — Style at Ballston— by W. 

Wizard, Esq 107 

From Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan 

to Asem Hacchem - - - 110 
No. 17 — Autumnal Reflections — by 

Launcelot LangstafF, Esq. - 113 

Description of the Library at Cockloft 

Hall—by L. LangstafF, Esq. - 116 
Chap. CIX. of the Chronicles of the 

Renowned and Ancient City of 

Gotham 118 

No. 18 The Little Man in Black—by 

Launcelot LangstafF, Esq. - 121 

Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-dub 

Keli Khan to Muley Helim al 

Raggi - - - - - 128 
Anthony Evergreen's Introduction to 

the " Winter Campaign" - - 132 
Tea, a Poem — from the Mill of Pin- 
dar Cockloft, Esq. - - - 134 

No. 20 On the New Year - - - 136 

To the Ladies — from A. Evergreen, 

Gent 139 

Farewell Address - - - - 142 



salmagundi; 



OR, 



THE WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS 

OF 

LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

AND OTHERS. 



In hoc est hoax, cum quiz et jokesez, 
Et smokem, toastein, roastem, folksez. 
Fee, faw, fum. PsalmanazaR. 

With bak'd, and broil'd, and stewed, and toasted, 
And fried, and boil'd, and smok'd, and roasted, 
We treat the town. 



No. 1. 

SATURDAY, JANUARY 24, 1807. 

As every body knows, or ought to know, 
what a Salmagundi is, we shall spare our- 
selves the trouble of an explanation ; besides, 
we despise trouble as we do every thing that is 
low and mean — and hold the man who would 
incur it unnecessarily, as an object worthy 
our highest pity and contempt. Neither will 
we puzzle our heads to give an account of our- 
selves, for two reasons ; first, because it is 
nobody's business ; secondly, because if it 
were, we do not hold ourselves bound to any 
body's business but our own ; and even that 
we take the liberty of neglecting when it suits 
our inclination. To these we might add a 
third, that very few men can give a tolerable 
account of themselves, let them try ever so 
hard ; but this reason, we candidly avow, 
would not hold good with ourselves. 

There are, however, two or three pieces of 
information which we bestow gratis on the 
public, chiefly because it suits our own plea- 
sure and convenience that they should be 
known, and partly because we do not wish 
B 



that there should be any ill-will between us at 
the commencement of our acquaintance. 

Our intention is simply to instruct the 
young, reform the old, correct the town, and 
castigate the age : this is an arduous task, 
and, therefore, we undertake it with confi- 
dence. We intend for this purpose to present 
a striking picture of the town ; and as every 
body is anxious to see his own phiz on canvass, 
however stupid or ugly it may be, we have 
no doubt but the whole town will flock t,o 
our exhibition. Our picture will necessarily 
include a vast variety of figures ; and Should 
any lady or gentleman be displeased with the 
inveterate truth of their likenesses, they may 
ease their spleen by laughing at those of their 
neighbours — this being what toe understand 
by poetical justice. 

Like all true and able Editors, we consider 
ourselves infallible ; and, therefore, with the 
customary diffidence of our brethren of the 
quill, we shall take the liberty of interfering 
in all matters either of a public or private 
nature. We are critics, amateurs, diletanti, 
and cognoscenti ; and as we know " by the 
pricking of our thumbs," that every opinion 

1 



2 



SALMAGUNDI. 



which we may advance in either of those 
characters will be correct, we are determined, 
though it may be questioned, cr atradicted, or 
even controverted, yet it shall never be re- 
voked. 

We beg the public particularly to under- 
stand, that we solicit no patronage. We are 
determined, on the contrary, that the patronage 
shall be entirely on our side. We have no- 
thing to do with the pecuniary concerns of 
the paper : its success will yield us neither 
pride nor profit ; nor will its failure occasion 
to us either loss or mortification. We advise 
the public, therefore, to purchase our num- 
bers merely for their own sakes ; if they do 
not, let them settle the affair with their con- 
sciences and posterity. 

To conclude, we invite all editors of news- 
papers and literary journals to praise us 
heartily in advance, as we assure them that 
we intend to deserve their praises. To our 
next door neighbour, " Town,"* we hold out 
a hand of amity, declaring to him that, after 
curs, his paper will stand the best chance for 
immortality. We proffer an exchange of 
civilities ; he shall furnish us with notices of 
epic poems and tobacco — and we, in return, 
will enrich him with original speculations on 
all manner of subjects, together with " the 
rummaging of my grandfather's mahogany 
chest of drawers," " the life and amours of 
mine uncle John," anecdotes of the Cockloft 
family," and learned quotations from that 
unheard of writer of folios, Linkum FideHus. 



FROM THE ELBOW-CHAIR OF 

LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

We were a considerable time in deciding 
whether we should be at the pains of intro- 
ducing ourselves to the public. As we care 
for nobody, and as we are not yet at the bar, 
we do not feel bound to hold up our hands 
and answer to our names. 

Willing, however, to gain at once that 
frank, confidential footing, which we are cer- 
tain of ultimately possessing in this, doubt- 
less, " best of all possible cities ;" and anxious 

* The title of a newspaper published in New York, 
the columns of which, among other miscellaneous 
topics, occasionally contained strictures on the per- 
formances at the theatre.— Ed. 



to spare its worthy inhabitants the trouble of 
making a thousand wise conjectures, not one 
of which would be worth a " tobacco-stopper," 
we have thought it in some degree a necessary 
exertion of charitable condescension to furnish 
them with a slight clue to the truth. 

Before we proceed further, however, we 

advise every body—man, woman, and child 

that can read, or get any friend to read for 
them, to purchase this paper; not that we 
write for money, for, in common with all phi- 
losophical wiseacres, from Solomon down- 
wards, we hold it in suprame contempt. The 
public are welcome to buy this work or not, 
just as they choose. If it be purchased 
freely, so much the better for the public — 
and the publisher ; we gain not a stiver. If 
it be not purchased, we give fair warning — 
we shall burn all our essays, critiques, and 
epigrams, in one promiscuous blaze ; and, like 
the books of the sybils and the Alexandrian 
library, they will be lost for ever to posterity. 
For the sake, therefore, of our publisher, for 
the sake of the public, and for the sake of the 
public's children to the nineteenth, generation, 
we advise them to purchase our paper. We 
beg the respectable old matrons of this city 
not to be alarmed at the appearance we make : 
we are none of those outlandish geniuses who 
swarm in New York, who live by their wits, 
or rather by the little wit of their neighbours, 
and who spoil the genuine honest American 
tastes of their daughters with French slops 
and fricasseed sentiment. 

We have said we do not write for money ; 
neither do we write for fame. We know too 
well the variable nature of public opinion, to 
build our hopes upon it : we care not what 
the public think of us ; and we suspect, be- 
fore we reach the tenth number, they will not 
know what to think of us. In two words — 
we write for no other earthly purpose but to 
please ourselves ; and this we shall be sure 
of doing, for we are all three of us determined 
beforehand to be pleased with what we write. 
If in the course of this work we edify, and 
instruct, and amuse the public, so much the 
better for the public; but we frankly acknow- 
ledge, that so soon as we get tired of reading 
our own works, we shall discontinue them 
without the least remorse, whatever the public 
may think of it. While we continue to go 



SALMAGUNDI. 



on, we will go on merrily ; if we moralize, it 
shall be but seldom ; and on all occasions we 
shall be more solicitous to make our readers 
laugh than cry — for we are laughing philoso- 
phers, and clearly of opinion, that wisdom, 
true wisdom, is a plump jolly dame, who sits 
in her arm-chair, laughs right merrily at the 
farce of life, and takes the world as it goes. 

We intend particularly to notice the con- 
duct of the fashionable world ; — nor in this 
shall we be governed by that carping spirit 
with which narrow-minded book-worm cynics 
squint at the little extravagances of the ton ; 
but with that liberal toleration which actuates 
every man of fashion. While we keep more 
than a Cerberus watch over the golden rules 
of female delicacy and decorum — we shall not 
discourage any little sprightliness of demea- 
nour, or innocent vivacity of character. Before 
we advance one line further, we must let it 
be understood, as our firm opinion, void of 
all prejudice or partiality, that the ladies 
of New-York are the fairest, the finest, the 
most accomplished, the most bewitching, the 
most ineffable beings, that walk, creep, crawl, 
swim, fly, float, or vegetate, in any or all of 
the four elements ; and that they only want 
to be cured of certain whims, eccentricities, 
and unseemly conceits, by our superintend- 
ing cares, to render them absolutely perfect. 
They will, therefore, receive a large portion 
of those attentions directed to the fashionable 
world ; nor will the gentlemen who doze 
away their time in the circles of the haut-ton, 
escape our currying : — we mean those silly 
fellows who sit stock-still upon their chairs, 
without saying a word, and then complain 

how damned stupid it was at Miss 's 

party. 

This department will be under the peculiar 
direction and control of Anthony Ever- 
green, Gent, to whom all communications 
on this subject are to be addressed. This 
gentleman, from his long experience in the 
routine of balls, tea-parties, and assemblies, 
is eminently qualified for the task he has 
undertaken. He is a kind of patriarch in 
the fashionable world, and has seen genera- 
tion after generation pass away into the silent 
tomb of matrimony, while he remains un- 
changeably the same. He can recount the 
amours and covrtships of the father* mo. 
B 2 



thers, uncles, and aunts, and even grand- 
dames, of all the belles of the present day — 
provided the' r pedigrees extend so far back 
without being lost in obscurity. As, how- 
ever, treating of pedigrees is rather an un- 
grateful task in this city, and as we mean to 
be perfectly good-natured, he has promised 
to be cautious in this particular. He recol- 
lects perfectly the time when young ladies 
used to go a sleigh -riding, at night, without 
their mammas or grand-mammas ; in short, 
without being matronized at all ; and can 
relate a thousand pleasant stories about Kis- 
sing-bridge.* He likewise remembers the 
time when ladies paid tea-visits at three in 
the afternoon, and returned before dark to see 
that the house was shut up, and the servants 
on duty. He has often played cricket in the 
orchard in the rear of old Vauxhall, and re-. 
members when the Bull's-head was quite out 
of town. Though he has slowly and gradu- 
ally given in to modern fashions, and still 
flourishes in the beaic-monde, yet he seems a 
little prejudiced in favour of the dress and 
manners of the old school ; and his chief com- 
mendation of a new mode is, " that it is the 
same good old fashion we had before the war." 
It has cost us much trouble to make him 
confess that a cotillon is superior to a 
minuet, or an unadorned crop to a pig-tail 
and powder. Custom and fashion have, how- 
ever, had more effect on him than all our 
lectures; and he tempers, so happily, the 
grave and ceremonious gallantry of the old 
school with the " hail fellow" familiarity of 
the new, that, we trust, on a little acquaint- 
ance, and making allowance for his old- 
fashioned prejudices, he will become a very 
considerable favourite with our readers; if 
not, the worse for themselves — as they will 
have to endure his company. 

In the territory of criticism, William 
Wizard, Esq. has undertaken to preside ; 
and though we may all dabble in it a little by 
turns, yet we have willingly ceded to him all 

* Amongst the amusements of the citizens, in 
times gone by, was that of making excursions in the 
winter evenings, on sleighs, to some neighbouring 
village, where the social party had a ball and supper. 
Kissing-bridge was so denominated from the circum- 
stance that here the beaux exacted from their fair 
companions the forfeiture of a kiss before permitting 
their travelling vehicles to pass over.— Edit. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



discretionary powers in this respect. Though 
Will has not had the advantage of an educa- 
tion at Oxford or Cambridge, or even at 
Edinburgh or Aberdeen, and though he is 
but little versed in Hebrew, yet we have no 
doubt he will be found fully competent to the 
undertaking. He has improved his taste by 
a long residence abroad, particularly at Can- 
ton, Calcutta, and the gay and polished court 
of Hayti. He has also had an opportunity of 
seeing the best singing-girls and tragedians 
of China ; is a great connoisseur in manda- 
rin dresses, and porcelain, and particularly 
values himself on his intimate knowledge of 
the buffalo and war dances of the Northern 
Indians. He is likewise promised the assist- 
ance of a gentleman, lately from London, 
who was born and bred in that centre of sci- 
ence and bon gout, the vicinity of Fleet-market, 
where he has been edified, man and boy, these 
six-and-twenty years, with the harmonious 
jingle of Bow-bells. His taste, therefore, has 
attained to such an exquisite pitch of refine- 
ment, that there are few exhibitions of any 
kind which do not put him in a fever. He 
has assured Will, that if Mr. Cooper empha- 
sises " and" instead of " but/' — or Mrs. 
Oldmixon pins her kerchief a hair's-breadth 
awry — or Mrs. Darley offers to dare to look 
less than the " daughter of a senator of Ve- 
. nice," — the standard of a senator's daughter 
being exactly six feet — they shall all hear of 
it in good time. — We have, however, advised 
Will Wizard to keep his friend in check, lest 
by opening the eyes of the public to the 
, wretchedness of the actors, by whom they 
have hitherto been entertained, he might cut 
off one source of amusement from our fellow- 
citizens. We hereby give notice, that we have 
taken the whole corps, from the manager in 
his mantle of gorgeous copper-lace, to honest 
John in his green coat and black breeches, 
under our wing — and woe be unto him who 
injures a hair of their heads. — As we have no 
design against the patience of our fellow-citi- 
zens, v/e shall not dose them with copious 
draughts of theatrical criticism: we know 
that they have already been well physicked 
with them of late. Our theatrics shall take up 
but a small part of our paper ; nor shall they 
be altogether confined to the stage, but extend 
from time to time to those incorrigible offen- 



ders against the peace of society, the stage- 
critics, who not unfrequently create the fault 
they find, in order to yield an opening for 
their witticisms ; censure an actor for a gesture 
he never made, or an emphasis he never gave ; 
and, in their attempt to show off new readings, 
make the sweet swan of Avon cackle like a 
goose. If any one should feel himself of- 
fended by our remarks, let him attack us 
in return — we shall not wince from the com- 
bat. If his passes be successful, we will be 
the first to cry out, a hit! a hit! and we 
doubt not we shall frequently lay ourselves 
open to the weapons of our assailants But 
let them have a care how they run a 'lting 
with us; they have to deal with stubborn 
foes, who can bear a world of pommelling : 
we will be relentless in our vengeance, and 
will fight " till from our bones the flesh be 
hack'd." 

What other subjects we shall include in 
the range of our observations, we have not 
determined, or rather we shall not trouble 
ourselves to detail. The public have already 
more information concerning us than we in- 
tended to impart. We owe them no favours 
— neither do we ask any. We again advise 
them, for their own sakes, to read our papers 
when they come out. We recommend to all 
mothers to purchase them for their daughters, 
who will be initiated into the arcana of the 
bon ton, and cured of all those rusty old 
notions which they acquired during the last 
century: parents shall be taught how to 
govern their children, girls how to get hus- 
bands, and old maids how to do without 
them. 

As we do not measure our wits by the yard 
or bushel, and as they do not flow periodically 
nor constantly, we shall not restrict our paper 
as to size or the time of its appearance. It 
will be published whenever we have suffi- 
cient matter to constitute a number ; and the 
size of the number shall depend on the stock 
in hand. This will best suit our negligent 
habits, and leave us that full liberty and in- 
dependence which is the joy and pride of our 
souls. As we have before hinted, that we do 
not concern ourselves about the pecuniary 
matters of our paper, we leave its price to be 
regulated by our publisher; only recom- 
mending him, for his own interest, and the 



SALMAGUNDI. 



honour of his authors, not to sell their invalu- 
able productions too cheap. 

Is there any one who wishes to know more 
about us? — let him read Salmagundi, and 
grow wise apace. Thus much we will say — 
there are three of us, " Bardolph, Peto, and 
I," all townsmen good and true. Many a 
time and oft have we three amused the town, 
without its knowing to whom it was indebted ; 
and many a time have we seen the mid-night 
lamp twinkle faintly on our studious phizzes, 
and heard the morning salutation of " past 
three o'clock," before we sought our pillows. 
The result of these midnight studies is now 
offered to the public ; and little as we care for 
the opinion of this exceedingly stupid world, 
we shall take care, as far as lies in our care- 
less natures, to fulfil the promises made in 
this introduction ; — if we do not, we shall 
have so many examples to justify us, that we 
feel little solicitude on that account. 



THEATRICS, 

Containing the quintessence of Modem 
Criticism. 

BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

Macbeth was performed to a very crowded 
house, and much to our satisfaction. As, 
however, our neighbour Town has been very 
voluminous already in his criticisms on this 
play, we shall make but few remarks. Hav- 
ing never seen Kemble in this character, we 
are absolutely at a loss to say whether Mr. 
Cooper performed it well or not. We think, 
however, there was an error in his costume, 
as the learned Linkum Fidelius is of opinion 
that, in the time of Macbeth, the Scots did 
not wear sandals but wooden shoes. Macbeth 
also was noted for wearing his jacket open, 
that he might play the Scotch fiddle more 
conveniently ; — that being an hereditary 
accomplishment in the Glamis family. 

We have seen this character performed in 
China by the celebrated Chovj-Chow, the 
Roscius of that great empire, who in the 
dagger scene always electrified the audience 
by blowing his nose like a trumpet. Chow- 
Chow, in compliance with the opinion of the 
sage Linkum Fidelius, performed Macbeth 
in wooden-shoes ; this gave him an opportu- 
nity of producing great effect— for on first 
B 3 



seeing the " air drawn dagger," he always 
cut a prodigious high caper, and kicked his 
shoes into the pit at the heads of the critics ; 
whereupon the audience were marvellously 
delighted, flourished their hands, and stroked 
their whiskers three times; and the matter 
was carefully reported in the next number of 
a paper called the Flim Flam. ( English — 
Town.) 

We were much pleased with Mrs. Villiers 
in Lady Macbeth; but we think she would 
have given a greater effect to the night-scene, 
if, instead of holding the candle in her hand, 
or setting it down on the table, which is saga- 
ciously censured by neighbour Town, she had 
stuck it in her night-cap— This would have 
been extremely picturesque, and would have 
marked more strongly the derangement of her 
mind. 

Mrs. Villiers, however, is not by any means 
large enough for the character — Lady Mac- 
beth having been, in our opinion, a woman of 
extraordinary size, and of the race of the 
giants, notwithstanding what she says of her 
" little hand ;" which being said in her sleep 
passes for nothing. We should be happy to 
see this character in the hands of the lady who 
played Glumdalca, queen of the giants, in 
Tom Thumb : she is exactly of imperial di- 
mensions ; and, provided she is well shaved, 
of a most interesting physiognomy: as she 
appears also to be a lady of some nerve, I 
dare engage she will read a letter about 
witches vanishing in air, and such common 
occurrences, without being unnaturally sur- 
prised, to the annoyance of honest " Town." 

We are happy to observe that Mr. Cooper 
profits by the instructions of friend Town, 
and does not dip the dagger in blood so deep 
as formerly by the matter of an inch or two. 
This was a violent outrage upon our im- 
mortal bard. We differ with Mr. Town in 
his reading of the words " this is a sorry 
sight." We are of opinion the force of the 
sentence should be thrown on the word sight 
—because Macbeth having been, a short time 
before, most confoundedly humbugged with 
an aerial dagger, was in doubt whether the 
daggers actually in his hands were real, or 
whether they were not mere shadows ; or as 
the old English may have termed it, syghtes ; 
(this, at any rate, will establish our skill in 



SALMAGUNDI. 



new readings.) Though we differ in this 
respect from our neighbour Town, yet we 
heartily agree with him in censuring Mr. 
Cooper for omitting that passage so remark, 
able for " beauty of imagery," &c, begin- 
ning with " and pity like a new-born-babe," 
&c. It is one of those passages of Shake- 
speare which should always be retained, for 
the purpose of showing how some times that 
great poet could talk like a buzzard ; or, to 
speak more plainly, like the famous mad 
poet, Nat Lee. 

As it is the first duty of a friend to advise; 
and as we profess, and do actually feel a 
friendship for honest " Town," we warn him, 
never in his criticisms to meddle with a lady's 
" petticoats," or to quote Nic Bottom. In 
the first instance he may "catch a tartar;" 
and in the second, the ass's head may rise in 
judgment against him — and when it is once 
afloat there is no knowing where some un- 
lucky hand may place it. We would not 
for all the money in our pockets, see Town 
flourishing his critical quill under the auspi- 
ces of an ass's head, like the great Franklin 
in his Montero Cap. 



NEW YORK ASSEMBLY. 

BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

The assemblies this year have gained a 
great accession of beauty. Several brilliant 
stars have arisen from the east and from the 
north, to brighten the firmament of fashion : 
among the number I have discovered another 
planet, which rivals even Venus in lustre, and 
I claim equal honour with Herschell for my 
discovery. I shall take some future opportu- 
nity to describe this planet, and the numerous 
satellites which revolve around it. 

At the last assembly the company hegan to 
make some show about eight, but the most 
fashionable delayed their appearance until 
about nine — nine being the number of the 
muses, and therefore the best possible hour 
for beginning to exhibit the graces. — (This 
is meant for a pretty display of words, and I 
assure my readers that I think it very toler- 
able.) 

Poor Will Honeycomb, whose memory I 
hold in special consideration, even with his 



half century of experience, would have been 
puzzled to point out the humours of a lady 
by her prevailing colours; for the " rival 
queens" of fashion, Mrs. Toole and Madame 
Bouchard,* appeared to have exhausted their 
wonderful inventions in the different disposi- 
tion, variation, and combination, of tints and 
shades. The philosopher who maintained 
that black was white, and that, of course, 
there was no such colour as white, might 
have given some colour to his theory on this 
occasion, by the absence of poor forsaken 
white muslin. I was, however, much pleased 
to see that red maintains its ground against 
all other colours, because red is the colour of 
Mr. Jefferson's *****, Tom Paine's nose, 
and my slippers.f 

Let the grumbling smellfungi of this world, 
who cultivate taste among books, cobwebs, 
and spiders, rail at the extravagance of the 
age; for my part, I was delighted with the 
magic of the scene, and as the ladies tripped 
through the mazes of the dance, sparkling 
and glowing and dazzling, I, like the honest 
Chinese, thanked them heartily for the jewels 
and finery with which they loaded themselves, 
merely for the entertainment of bye-standers, 
and blessed my stars that I was a bachelor. 

The gentlemen were considerably numer- 
ous, and being as usual equipt in their appro- 
priate black uniforms, constituted a sable 
regiment, which contributed not a little to the 
brilliant gaiety of the ball-room. I must 
confess I am indebted for this remark to our 
friend, the cockney, Mr. 'Sbidlikens- 
flash, or 'Sbidlikens, as he is called for 
shortness. He is a fellow of infinite verbo- 
sity — stands in high favour — with himself — 
and, like Caleb Quotem, is " up to every 
thing." I remember when a comfortable 
plump-looking citizen led into the room a fair 
damsel, who looked for all the world like 
the personification of the rainbow, 'Sbidlikens 
observed, that it reminded him of a fable, 
which he had read somewhere of the marriage 

* Two fashionable milliners of rival celebrity in the 
city of New-York— Edit. 

f In this instance, as well as on several other occa 
sions, a little innocent pleasantry is indulged at Mr 
Jefferson's expense. The allusion made here is to 
the red velvet small clothes with which the President, 
in defiance of good taste, used to attire himself on 
levee-days and other public occasions.— Edit, 



SALMAGUNDI. 



of an honest -pains-taking snail — who had 
once walked six feet in an hour, for a wager, 
to a butterfly whom he used to gallant by 
the elbow, with the aid of much puffing and 
exertion On being called upon to tell where 
he had come across this story, 'Sbidlikens 
absolutely refused to answer. 

It would be but repeating an old story to 
say, that the ladies of New-York dance well ; 
and well may they, since they learn it scien- 
tifically, and begin their lessons before they 
have quitted their swaddling clothes. The 
immortal Duport has usurped despotic sway 
over all the female heads and heels in this 
city; hornbooks, primers, and pianos are 
neglected to attend to his positions ; and poor 
Chilton, with his pots and kettles and che- 
mical crockery, finds him a more potent 
enemy than the whole collective force of the 
" North-river Society." 'Sbidlikens insists 
that this dancing mania will inevitably con- 
tinue as long as a dancing-master will charge 
the fashionable price of five-and-twenty dol- 
lars a quarter, and all the other accomplish- 
ments are so vulgar as to be attainable at 
M half the money;" — but I put no faith in 
'Sbidlikens' candour in this particular. Among 
his infinitude of endowments he is but a poor 
proficient in dancing; and though he often 
flounders through a cotillon, yet he never 
cut a pigeon-wing in his life. 

In my mind there's no position more posi- 
tive and unexceptionable than that most 
Frenchmen, dead or alive, are born dancers. 
I came pounce upon this discovery at the 
assembly, and I immediately noted it down 
in my register of indisputable facts — the 
public shall know all about it. As I never 
dance cotillons, holding them to be men- 
strous distorters of the human frame, and 
tantamount in their operations to being broken 
and dislocated on the wheel, I generally take 
occasion, while they are going on, to make 
my remarks on the company. In the course 
of these observations I was struck with the 
energy and eloquence of sundry limbs, which 
seemed to be flourishing about without ap- 
pertaining to any body. After much investi- 
gation and difficulty, I, at length, traced them 
to their respective owners, whom I found to 
be all Frenchmen to a man. Art may have 
meddled somewhat in these affairs, but nature 



certainly did more. I have since been consi- 
derably employed in calculations on this sub- 
ject ; and by the most accurate computation I 
have determined, that a Frenchman passes at 
least three-fifths of his time between the hea- 
vens and the earth, and partakes eminently 
of the nature of a gossamer or soap-bubble. 
One of these jack-o-lantern heroes, in taking 
a figure, which neither Euclid or Pythagoras 
himself could demonstrate, unfortunately 
wound himself — I mean his foot, his better 
part — into a lady's cobweb muslin robe ; but 
perceiving it at the instant, he set himself a 
spinning the other way, like a top, unravelled 
his step, without omitting one an^gle or curve, 
and extrieated himself without breaking a 
thread of the lady's dress ! he then sprung up 
like a sturgeon, crossed his feet four times, 
and finished this wonderful evolution by 
quivering his left leg, as a cat does her paw 
when she has accidentally dipped it in water. 
No man " of woman born," who was not a 
Frenchman, or a mountebank, could have 
done the like. 

Among the new faces, I remarked a bloom- 
ing nymph, who has brought a fresh supply 
of roses from the country to adorn the wreath 
of beauty, where lilies too much predominate. 
As I wish well to every sweet face under 
heaven, I sincerely hope her rosea may sur- 
vive the frosts and dissipations of winter, and 
lcse nothing by a comparison with the love- 
liest offerings of spring. 'Sbidlikens, to 
whom I made similar remarks, assured me 
that they were very just, and very prettily 
exprest ; and that the lady in question was a 
prodigious fine piece of flesh and blood. Now 
could I find it in my heart to baste these 
cockneys like their own roast -beef — they can 
make no distinction between a fine woman 
and a fine horse. 

I would praise the sylph-like grace with 
which another young lady acquitted herself 
in the dance, but that she excels in far more 
valuable accomplishments. Who praises the 
rose for its beauty, even though it is beau- 
tiful ? 

The company retired at the customary 
hour to the supper-room, were the tables 
were laid out with their usual splendour and 
profusion. My friend, 'Sbidlikens, with the 
native forethought of a cockney, had carefully 



8 



SALMAGUNDI. 



stowed his pocket with cheese and crackers, 
that he might not be tempted again to venture 
his limbs in the crowd of hungry fair ones 
who throng the supper-room door : his pre- 
caution was unnecessary, for the company 
entered the room with surprising order and 
decorum. No gowns were torn — no ladies 
fainted — no noses bled — nor was there any 
need of the interference of either managers or 
peace-officers. 



No. 2. 
WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1807. 

FROM THE ELBOW-CHAIR OF 

LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

In the conduct of an epic poem, it has been 
the custom, from time immemorial, for the 
poet occasionally to introduce his reader to an 
intimate acquaintance with the heroes of his 
story, by conducting him into their tents, and 
giving him an opportunity of observing them 
in their night-gown and slippers. However, 
I despise the servile genius that would de- 
scend to follow a precedent, though furnished 
by Homer himself, and consider him as on a 
par with the cart that follows at the heels of 
the horse, without ever taking the lead ; yet 
at the present moment my whim is opposed 
to my opinion, and whenever this is the case, 
my opinion generally surrenders at discretion. 
I am determined, therefore, to give the town 
a peep into our divan ; and I shall repeat it 
as often as I please, to show that I intend to 
be sociable. 

The other night Will Wizard and Ever- 
green called upon me, to pass away a few 
hours in social chat, and hold a kind of coun- 
cil of war. To give a zest to our evening I 
uncorked a bottle of London particular, whicli 
has grown old with myself, and which never 
fails to excite a smile in the countenances of 
my old cronies, to whom alone it is devoted. 
After some little time the conversation turned 
on the effect produced by our first number ; 
every one had his budget of information, and I 
assure my readers that we laughed most uncere- 
moniously at their expense : they will excuse 
us for our merriment — 'tis a way we've got. 
Evergreen, who is equally a favourite and 
companion of young and old, was particularly 



satisfactory in his details ; and it was highly 
amusing to hear how different characters were 
tickled with different passages. The old 
folks were delighted to find there was a bias 
in our junto towards the " good old times ;" 
and he particularly noticed a worthy old gen- 
tleman of his acquaintance, who had been 
somewhat of a beau in his day, whose eyes 
brightened at the bare mention of Kissing- 
bridge. It recalled to his recollection several 
of his youthful exploits, at that celebrated 
pass, on which he seemed to dwell with great 
pleasure and self-complacency : he hoped, he 
said, that the bridge might be preserved for 
the benefit of posterity, and as a monument 
of the gallantry of their grandfathers ; and 
even hinted at the expediency of erecting a 
toll-gate there, to collect the forfeits of the 
ladies. But the most flattering testimony of 
approbation, which our work has received, 
was from an old lady, who never laughed but 
once in her life, and that was at the conclu- 
sion of the last war. She was detected by 
friend Anthony in the very fact of laughing 
most obstreperously at the description of the 
little dancing Frenchman. Now it glads my 
very heart to find our effusions have such a 
pleasing effect. I venerate the aged, and joy 
whenever it is in my power to scatter a few 
flowers in their path. 

The young people were particularly inter- 
ested in the account of the assembly. There 
was some difference of opinion respecting the 
new planet, and the blooming nymph from 
the country ; but as to the compliment paid 
to the fascinating little sylph who danced so 
gracefully, every lady modestly took that to 
herself. 

Evergreen mentioned also that the young 
ladies were extremely anxious to learn the 
true mode of managing their beaux; and 
Miss Diana Wearwell, who is as chaste as 
an icicle, has seen a few superfluous winters 
pass over her head, and boasts of having slain 
her thousands, wished to know how old maids 
were to do without husbands — not that she 
was very curious about the matter, she " only 
asked for information." Several ladies ex- 
pressed their earnest desire that we would not 
spare those wooden gentlemen who perform 
the parts of mutes, or stalking horses in their 
drawing-rooms ; and their mothers were 



SALMAGUNDI. 



equally anxious that we would show no 
quarter to those lads of spirit, who now and 
then cut theii hottles to enliven a tea-party 
with the humours of the dinner-table. 

Will Wizard was not a little chagrined at 
having been mistaken for a gentleman, " who 
is no more like me," said Will, " than 1 like 
Hercules." — " I was well assured," conti- 
nued Will, '-< that as our characters were 
drawn from nature, the originals would be 
found in every society. And so it has hap- 
pened — every little circle has its 'Sbidlikens ; 
and the cockney, intended merely as the re- 
presentative of his species, has dwindled into 
an insignificant individual, who, having re- 
cognised his own likeness, has foolishly ap- 
propriated to himself a picture for which he 
never sat. Such, too, has been the case with 
Ding-dong, who has kindly undertaken to be 
my representative; not that I care much 
about the matter, for it must be acknowledged 
that the animal is a good-natured animal 
enough, and what is more, a fashionable ani- 
mal — and this is saying more than to call 
him a conjuror. But, I am much mistaken 
if he can claim any affinity to the Wizard 
family Surely every body knows Ding- 
dong, the gentle Ding-dong, who pervades all 
space, who is here and there and every where ; 
no tea-party can be complete without Ding- 
dong, and his appearance is sure to occasion a 
smile. Ding-dong has been the occasion of 
much wit in his day ; I have even seen many 
puny whipsters attempt to be dull at his ex- 
pense, who were as much inferior to him as 
the gad- fly is to the ox that he buzzes about. 
Does any witling want to distress the com- 
pany with a miserable pun ? nobody's name 
presents sooner than Ding-dong's ; and it 
has been played upon with equal skill and 
equal entertainment to the bye-standers as 
Trinity-bells. Ding-dong is profoundly de- 
voted to the ladies, and highly entitled to 
their regard ; for I know no man who makes 
a better bow, or talks less to the purpose than 
Ding-dong. Ding-dong has acquired a pro- 
digious fund of knowledge by reading Dil- 
worth when a boy ; and the other day, on 
being asked who was the author of Macbeth, 
answered, without the least hesitation — Shak- 
speare ! Ding-dong has a quotation for 
every day of the year, and every hour of the 



day, and every minute of the hour ; but he 
often commits petty larcenies on the poets- 
plucks the grey hairs of old Chaucer's head, 
and claps them on the chin of Pope; and 
filches Johnson's wig, to cover the bald pate of 
Homer ; but his blunders pass undetected by 
one half of his hearers. Ding-dong, it is 
true, though he has long wrangled at our bar, 
cannot boast much of his legal knowledge, 
nor does his forensic eloquence entitle him to 
rank with a Cicero or a Demosthenes ; but 
bating his professional deficiencies, he is a 
man of most delectable discourse, and can 
hold forth for an ihour upon the colour of a 
riband, or the construction of a work-bag. 
Ding-dong is now in his fortieth year, or 
perhaps a little more — rivals all the little 
beaux in town, in his attention to the ladies 
—is in a state of rapid improvement; and 
there is no doubt but that, by the time he 
arrives at years of discretion, he will be 
a very accomplished, agreeable young fel- 
low." — I advise all clever, good-for-nothing 
" learned and authentic gentlemen," to take 
care how they wear this cap, however well it 
fits ; and to bear in mind that our characters 
are not individuals, but species : if, after this 
warning, any person chooses to represent Mr. 
Ding-dong, the sin is at his own door — we 
wash our hands of it. 

We all sympathized with Wizard, that he 
should be mistaken for a person so very dif- 
ferent ; and I hereby assure my readers, that 
William Wizard is no other person in the 
whole world but William Wizard ; so I beg 
I may hear no more conjectures on the sub- 
ject. Will is, in fact, a wiseacre by inhe- 
ritance. The Wizard family has long been 
celebrated for knowing more than their neigh- 
bours, particularly concerning their neigh- 
bours' affairs. They were anciently called 
Josselin; but Will's great uncle, by the 
father's side, having been accidentally burnt 
for a witch in Connecticut, in consequence of 
blowing up his own house in a philosophical 
experiment, the family, in order to perpetuate 
the recollection of this memorable circum- 
stance, assumed the name and arms of Wizard, 
and have borne them ever since. 

In the course of my customary morning's 
walk, I stepped in at a book-store, which is 
noted for being the favourite haunt of a num- 



SALMAGUNDI. 



ber of literati, some of whom rank high in 
the opinion of the world, and others rank 
equally high in their own. Here I found a 
knot of queer fellows, listening to one of 
their company, who was reading our paper ; 
I particularly noticed Mr. Ichabod Fungus 
among the number. 

Fungus is one of those fidgeting, meddling 
quidnuncs, with which this unhappy city is 
pestered ; one of your " Q in the corner fel- 
lows," who speaks volumes with a wink- 
conveys most portentous information, by lay- 
ing his finger beside his nose — and is always 
smelling a rat in the most trifling occurrence. 
He listened to our work with the most frigid 
gravity — every now and then gave a myste- 
rious shrug — a humph — or a screw of the 
mouth : and on being asked his opinion at 
the conclusion, said, he did not know what 
to think of it — he hoped it did not mean any 
thing against the Government — that no lurk- 
ing treason was couched in all this talk— 
These were dangerous times, times of plot 
and conspiracy : he did not at all like those 
stars after Mr. Jefferson's name ; they had 
an air of concealment. Dick Paddle, who 
was one of the group, undertook our cause. 
Dick is known to the world as being a most 
knowing genius, who can see as far as any 
body — into a millstone ; maintains, in the 
teeth of all argument, that a spade is a spade ; 
and will labour a good half hour by St. Paul's 
clock, to establish a self-evident fact. Dick 
assured old Fungus, that those stars merely 
stood for Mr. Jefferson's red what d'ye- 
calVems ; and that so far from a conspiracy 
against their peace and prosperity, the authors, 
whom he knew very well, were only express- 
ing their high respect for them. The old 
man shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, 
gave a mysterious Lord Burleigh nod, said 
he hoped it might be so ; but he was by no 
means satisfied with this attack upon the Pre- 
sident's breeches, as " thereby hangs a tale." 



MR. WILSON'S CONCERT. 

BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

In my register of indisputable facts, I have 
noted it conspicuously, that all modem music 
is but the mere dregs and draining of the an- 
cient, and that all the spirit and vigour of 



harmony has entirely evaporated in the lapse 
of ages. Oh ! for the chant of the naiades, 
and dryades, the shell of the tritons, and the 
sweet warblings of the mermaids of ancient 
days ! Where now shall we seek the Am- 
phion, who built walls with a turn of his 
hurdy-gurdy, the Orpheus who made stones 
to whistle about his ears, and trees hop in a 
country dance, by the mere quavering of his 
fiddle-stick ! Ah ! had I the power of the 
former, how soon would I build up the new 
City-Hall, and save the cash and credit of 
the Corporation ; and how much sooner would 
I build myself a snug house in Broadway ; 
nor would it be the first time a house has 
been obtained there for a song. In my opi- 
nion, the Scotch bag-pipe is the only instru- 
ment that rivals the ancient lyre ; and I am 
surprised it should be almost the only one 
entirely excluded from our concerts. 

Talking of concerts reminds me of that 
given a few nights since by Mr. Wilson, at 
which I had the misfortune of being present. 
It was attended by a numerous company, and 
gave great satisfaction, if I may be allowed to 
judge from the frequent gapings of the audi- 
ence ; though I will not risk my credit as a 
connoisseur, by saying whether they pro- 
ceeded from wonder or a violent inclination 
to doze. I was delighted, to find in the 
mazes of the crowd my particular friend Sni- 
vers, who had put on his cognoscenti phiz — 
he being, according to his own account, a 
profound adept in the science of music He 
can tell a crotchet at first sight ; and, like a 
true Englishman, is delighted with the plum- 
pudding rotundity of a semibrief ; and, in 
short, boasts of having incontinently climbed 
up Paff's musical tree,* which hangs every 
day upon the poplar, from the fundamental 
concord, to the fundamental major discord ; 
and so on from branch to branch, until he 
reached the very top, where he sung " Rule 
Britannia," clapped his wings, and then — 
came down again. Like all true trans-atlan- 
tic judges, he suffers most horribly at our 
musical entertainments, and assures me, that 
what with the confounded scraping, and 
scratching, and grating of our fiddlers, he 

* An emblematical device, suspended from a pop- 
lar in front of the shop of Paff, a musie-seller in 
Broadway.— Edit. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



11 



thinks the sitting out one of out concerts tan- 
tamount to the punishment of that unfortunate 
saint, who was frittered in two with a hand- . 
saw. 

The concert was given in the tea-room, at 
the City-Hotel ; an apartment admirably cal- 
culated, by its dingy walls, beautifully mar- 
bled with smoke, to show off the dresses and 
complexions of the ladies ; and by the flat- 
ness of its ceiling to repress those impertinent 
reverberations of the music, which, whatever 
others may foolishly assert, are, as Snivers 
says, " no better than repetitions of old sto- 
ries." 

Mr. Wilson gave me infinite satisfaction 
by the gentility of his demeanour, and the 
roguish looks he now and then cast on the 
ladies ; but we fear his excessive modesty 
threw him into some little confusion, for he 
absolutely forgot himself, and in the whole 
course of his entrances and exits, never once 
made his bow to the audience. On the whole, 
however, I think he has a fine voice, sings 
with great taste, and is a very modest, good- 
looking little man ; but I beg leave to repeat 
the advice so often given by the illustrious 
tenants of the theatrical sky-parlour, to the 
gentlemen who are charged with the "nice 
conduct" of chairs and tables — "make a 
bow, Johnny— Johnny, make a bow ! " 

I cannot, on this occasion, but express my 
surprise that certain amateurs should be so 
frequently at concert, considering what ago- 
nies they suffer while a piece of music is play- 
ing. I defy any man of common humanity, 
and who has not the heart of a Choctaw, to 
contemplate the countenance of one of these 
unhappy victims of a fiddle-stick, without 
feeling a sentiment of compassion. His whole 
visage is distorted ; he rolls up his eyes, as 
M'Sycophant says, " like a duck in thunder," 
and the music seems to operate upon him 
like a fit of the cholic ; his very bowels seem 
to sympathize every twang of the cat-gut, as 
if he heard at that moment the wailings of 
the helpless animal that had been sacrificed 
to harmony. Nor does the hero of the or- 
chestra seem less affected : as soon as the sig- 
nal is given, he seizes his fiddle-stick, makes 
a most horrible grimace, and scowls fiercely 
upon his music-book, as though he would 
grin every crotchet and quaver out of coun- 



tenance. I have sometimes particularly no- 
ticed a hungry-looking Gaul, who torments a 
huge bass viol, and who is doubtless the ori- 
ginal of the famous " Raw-head-and -bloody- 
bones," s§g potent in frightening naughty 
children. 

The person who played the French horn 
was very excellent in his way ; but Snivers 
could not relish his performance, having some 
time since heard a gentleman amateur in 
Gotham play a solo on his vroboscis in a style 
infinitely superior : Snout, the bellows-mender, 
never tuned his wind instrument more musi- 
cally ; nor did the celebrated " knight of the 
burning lamp " ever yield more exquisite en- 
tertainment with his nose. This gentleman 
had latterly ceased to exhibit this prodigious 
accomplishment, having, it was whispered, 
hired out his snout to a ferryman, who had 
lost his conch-shell ; the consequence was, 
that he did not show his nose in company so 
frequently as before. 



Sitting late the other evening in my elbow- 
chair, indulging in that kind of indolent me- 
ditation which I consider the perfection of 
human bliss, I was roused from my reverie 
by the entrance of an old servant in the Cock- 
loft livery, who handed me a letter, contain- 
ing the following address from my cousin and 
old college chum, Pindar Cockloft. 

Honest Andrew, as he delivered it, in- 
formed me that his master, who resides a 
little way from town, on reading a small 
pamphlet in a neat yellow cover, rubbed his 
hands with symptoms of great satisfaction, 
called for his favourite Chinese ink-stand, 
with two sprawling mandarins for its sup- 
porters, and wrote the letter which he had 
the honour to present me. 

As I foresee my cousin will one day be- 
come a great favourite with the public, and 
as I know him to be somewhat punctilious as 
it respects etiquette, I shall take this oppor- 
tunity to gratify the old gentleman, by giving 
him a proper introduction to the fashionable 
world. The Cockloft family, to which I 
have the comfort of being related, has been 
fruitful in old bachelors and humourists, as 
will be perceived when I come to treat more 
of its history. — My cousin Pindar is one of 



12 



SALMAGUNDI. 



Its most conspicuous members ; he is now in 
his fifty-eighth year; is a bachelor, partly 
through choice, and partly through chance, 
and an oddity of the first water. Half his life 
has been employed in writing odes, sonnets, 
epigrams, and elegies, which he seldom shows 
to any body but myself after they are written ; 
and all the old chests, drawers, and chair- 
bottoms in the house, teem with his produc- 
tions. 

In his younger days he figured as a dash- 
ing blade in the great world ; and no young 
fellow of the town wore a longer pig-tail, or 
carried more buckram in his skirts. From 
sixteen to thirty he was continually in love ; 
and during that period, to use his own 
words, he be-scribbled more paper than 
would serve the theatre for snow-storms a 
whole season. The evening of his thirtieth 
birth-day, as he sat by the fire-side, as much 
in love as ever was man in this world, and 
writing the name of his mistress in the ashes, 
with an old tongs that had lost one of its legs, 
he was seized with a whim*wham that he was 
an old fool to be in love at his time of life. 
It was ever one of the Cockloft characteristics 
to strike to whim : and had Pindar stood out 
on this occasion he would have brought the 
reputation of his mother in question. From 
that time he gave up all particular attention 
to the ladies ; and though he still loves their 
company, he has never been known to ex- 
ceed the bounds of common courtesy in his 
intercourse with them. He was the life and 
ornament of our family circle in town, until 
the epoch of the French revolution, which 
sent so many unfortunate dancing-masters 
from their country to polish and enlighten 
our hemisphere. This was a sad time for 
Pindar, who had taken a genuine Cockloft 
prejudice against every thing French, ever 
since he was brought to death's door by a 
ragout : he groaned at Ca Ira, and the Mar- 
seilles Hymn had much the same effect upon 
him that sharpening a knife on a dry whet- 
stone has upon some people — it set his teeth 
chattering. He might in time have been re- 
conciled to these rubs, had not the introduc- 
tion of French cockades on the hats of our 
citizens absolutely thrown him into a fever. 
The first time he saw an instance of this kind, 
he came home with great precipitation, packed 



up his trunk, his old-fashioned writing-desk, 
and his Chinese ink-stand, and made a kind 
of growling retreat to Cockloft-Hall, where 
he has resided ever since. 

My cousin Pindar is of a mercurial dis- 
position — a humourist without ill-nature ; he 
is of the true gunpowder temper — one flash 
and all is over. It is true, when the wind is 
easterly, or the gout gives him a gentle twinge, 
or he hears of any new successes of the French, 
he will become a little splenetic ; and heaven 
help the man, and more particularly the 
woman, that crosses his humour at that mo- 
ment — she is sure to receive no quarter. 
These are the most sublime moments of Pin- 
dar. I swear to you, dear ladies and gentle- 
men, I would not lose one of those splenetic 
bursts for the best wig in my wardrobe, even 
though it were proved to be the identical wig 
worn by the sage Linkum Fidelius, when he 
demonstrated before the whole university of 
Leyden, that it was possible to make bricks 
without straw. I have seen the old gentle- 
man blaze forth such a volcanic explosion of 
wit, ridicule, and satire, that I was almost 
tempted to believe him inspired. But these 
sallies only lasted for a moment, and passed 
like summer clouds over the benevolent sun- 
shine which ever warmed his heart and lighted 
up his countenance. 

Time, though it has dealt roughly with his 
person, has passed lightly over the grace of 
his mind, and left him in full possession of 
all the sensibilities of youth. His eye kin- 
dles at the relation of a noble or generous 
action — his heart melts at the story of dis- 
tress — and he is still a warm admirer of the 
fair. Like all old bachelors, however, he 
looks back with a fond and lingering eye on 
the period of his boyhood, and would sooner 
suffer the pangs of matrimony, than acknow- 
ledge that the world, or any thing in it, is half 
so clever as it was in those good old times 
that are " gone by." 

I believe I have already mentioned, that 
with all his good qualities he is a humourist, 
and a humourist of the highest order. He 
has some of the most intolerable whim-whams 
I ever met with in my life, and his oddities 
are sufficient to eke out a hundred tolerable 
originals. But I will not enlarge on them ; 
enough has been told to excite a desire to 



SALMAGUNDI. 



13 



know more : and I am much mistaken if, in 
the course of half a dozen of our numbers, he 
don't tickle, plague, please, and perplex the 
whole town, and completely establish his 
claim to the laureateship he has solicited, and 
with which we hereby invest him, recom- 
mending him and his effusions to public re- 
verence and respect. 

LAUNCELOT LfANGSTAFF. 



TO LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 
Dear Launce, 

As I find you have taken the quill, 
To put our gay town and its fair under drill, 
I offer my hopes for success to your cause, 
And send you unvarnish'd my mite of applause. 

Ah, Launce, this poor town has been wofully fash'd ; 
Has long been be-frenchman'd, be-cockney'd, be- 

trash 'd ; 
And our ladies be-devil'd, bewilder'd astray, 
From the rules of their grand-dames have wander'd 

away. 
No longer that modest demeanour we meet, 
Which whilom the eyes of our fathers did greet;— 
No longer be-mobbled, be-ruffled, be-quill'd, 
Be-powder'd, be-hooded, be-patch'd, and be-frill'd. 
No longer our fair ones their grograms display, 
And stiff in brocade, strut " like castles " away. 

Oh, how'fondly my soul forms departed has traced, 
When our ladies in stays, and in boddice well laced, 
When bishop 'd, and cushion *d, and hoop'd to the 

chin, 
Well callash'd without, and well bolster'd within; 
All cas'd in their buckrams, from crown down to tail, 
Like O'Brallaghan's mistress, were shaped like a pail. 

Well— peace to those fashions — the joy of our eyes— 
Tempora mutantur— new follies will rise ; 
Yet, " like joys that are past," they still crowd on 

the mind, 
In moments of thought, as the soul looks behind. 

Sweet days of our boyhood, gone by, my dear 

Launce, 
Like the shadows of night, or the forms in a trance : 
Yet oft we retrace those bright visions again, 
Nos mutantur, 'tis true — but those visions remain. 
I recall with delight, how my bosom would creep, 
When some delicate foot from its chamber would 

peep; 
And when I a neat stocking 'd ancle could spy 
— By the sages of old, I was rapt to the sky ! ' 
All then was retiring, was modest, discreet; 
The beauties, all shrouded, were left to conceit ; 
To the visions which fancy would form in her eye, 
Of graces that snug in soft ambush would lie. 
And the heart, like the poet's, in thought would 

pursue 
The elysium of bliss, which was veil'd from its view. 

We are old fashion'd fellows, our nieces will say : 
Old-fashion 'd, indeed, coz— and swear it they may— 



For I freely confess that it yields me no pride, 
To see them all blaze what their mothers would hide ; 
To see them, all shivering, some cold winter's day. 
So lavish their beauties and graces display, 
And give to each fopling that offers his hand, 
Like Moses from Pisgah— a peep at the land. 

But a truce with complaining— the object in view 
Is to offer my help in the work you pursue ; 
And as your effusions and labours sublime 
May need, now and then, a few touches of rhyme, 
I humbly solicit, as cousin and friend, 
A quiddity, quirk, or remonstrance to send : 
Or should you a laureate want in your plan, 
By the muff of my grandmother, I am your man I 
You must kuow I have got a poetical mill, 
Which with odd lines and couplets, and triplets I fill; 
And a poem I grind, as from rags white and blue 
The paper-mill yields you a sheet fair and new. 
I can grind down an ode, or an epic that's long, 
Into sonnet, acrostic, conundrum, or song : 
As to dull hudibrastic, so boasted of late, 
The doggerel discharge of some muddled-brained 

pate, 
I can grind it by wholesale— and give it its point, 
With Billinsgate dished up in rhymes out of joint. 

I have read all the poets — and got them by heart : 
Can slit them, and twist them, and take them apart : 
Can cook up an ode out of patches and shreds, 
To muddle my readers, and bother their heads. 
Old Homer, and Virgil, and Ovid, I scan, 
Anacreon, and Sappho, (who changed to a swan)— 
Iambics and Sapphics I grind at my will, 
And with ditties of love every noddle can fill. 

Oh, 'twould do your heart good, Launce, to see my 
mill grind 
Old stuff into verses, and poems refin'd; 
Dan Spenser, Dan Chaucer, those poets of old, 
Though cover'd with dust, are yet true sterling gold : 
I can grind off their tarnish, and bring them to view. 
New modell'd, new mill'd, and improved in their hue. 

But I promise no more — only give me the place, 
And I'll warrant I'll fill it with credit and grace : 
By the living ! I'll figure and cut you a dash- 
As bold as Will Wizard, or 'Sbidlikens-flash ! 

Pindar Cockloft. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 

Perhaps the most fruitful source of mortifi- 
cation to a merry writer who, for the amuse- 
ment of himself and the public, employs his 
leisure in sketching odd characters from ima- 
gination, is, that he cannot flourish his pen, 
but every Jack-pudding imagines it is pointed 
directly at himself ; — he cannot, in his gam- 
bols, throw a fool's cap among the crowd, 
but every queer fellow insists upon putting 
it on his own head ; or chalk an outlandish 
figure, but every outlandish genius is eager to 
write his own name under it. — However we 



14 



SALMAGUNDI. 



may be mortified, that these men should each 
individually think himself of sufficient con- 
sequence to engage our attention, we should 
not care a rush about it, if they did not get 
into a passion and complain of having been 
ill used. 

It is not in our hearts to hurt the feel- 
ings of one single mortal, by holding him 
up to public ridicule ; and if it were, we lay 
it down as one of our indisputable facts, that 
no man can be made ridiculous but by his 
own folly. As, however, we are aware, that 
when a man by chance gets a thwack in the 
crowd, he is apt to suppose the blow was in- 
tended exclusively for himself, and so fall 
into unreasonable anger, we have determined 
to let these crusty gentry know what kind of 
satisfaction they are to expect from us. We 
are resolved not to fight, for three special 
reasons ; first, because fighting is at all events 
extremely troublesome and inconvenient, 
particularly at this season of the year ; se- 
cond, because if either of us should happen to 
be killed, it would be a great loss to the pub- 
lic, and rob them of many a good laugh we 
have in store for their amusement; and third, 
because if we should chance to kill our adver- 
sary, as is most likely — for we can every one 
of us split balls upon razors and snuff candles 
— it would be a loss to our publisher, by 
depriving him of a good customer. If any 
gentleman casuist will give three as good 
reasons for fighting, we promise him a 
complete set of Salmagundi for nothing. 

But thoughwedonot fight in our own proper 
persons, let it not be supposed that we will 
not give ample satisfaction to all those who 
may choose to demand it — for this would be 
a mistake of the first magnitude, and lead 
very valiant gentlemen, perhaps, into what 
is called a quandary. It would be a thou- 
sand and one pities, that any honest man, 
after taking to himself the cap and bells which 
we merely offered to his acceptance, should 
not have the privilege of being cudgelled into 
the bargain. We pride ourselves upon giving 
satisfaction in every department of our paper; 
and to fill that of fighting, have engaged two 
of those strapping heroes of the theatre, who 
figure in the retinues of our ginger-bread 
kings and queens — now hurry an old stuff 
petticoat on their backs, and strut Senators 



of Rome or Aldermen of London — and now 
be- whisker their muffin faces with burnt cork, 
and swagger right valiant warriors, armed 
cap-a-pie, in buckram. Should, therefore, 
any great, little man about town, take offence 
at our good-natured villany, though we in- 
tend to offend nobody under heaven, he will 
please to apply at any hour after twelve 
o'clock, as our champions will then be off 
duty at the theatre, and ready for any thing. 
They have promised to fight " with or with- 
out balls" — to give two tweaks of the nose 
for one — to submit to be kicked, and to 
cudgel their applicant most heartily in return ; 
this being what we understand by « the satis- 
faction of a gentleman." 



No. 3. 
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 1807. 

FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

As I delight in every thing novel and eccen- 
tric, and would at any time give an old coat 
for a new idea, I am particularly attentive to 
the manners and conversation of strangers, 
and scarcely ever a traveller enters this city, 
whose appearance promises any thing original, 
but by some means or other I form an acquaint- 
ance with him. I must confess I often 
suffer manifold afflictions from the intimacies 
thus contracted: my curiosity is frequently 
punished by the stupid details of a block- 
head, or the shallow verbosity of a coxcomb. 
Now, I would prefer at any time to travel 
with an ox-team through a Carolina sand-flat, 
rather than plod through a heavy unmeaning 
conversation with the former ; and as to the 
latter, I would sooner hold sweet converse 
with the wheel of a knife-grinder than endure 
his monotonous chattering. In fact, the 
strangers who flock to this most pleasant of all 
earthly cities, are generally mere birds of pas- 
sage whose plumage is often gay enough, I 
own, but their notes, " heaven save the mark," 
are as unmusical as those of that classic 
night-bird, which the ancients humourously 
selected as the emblem of wisdom. Those 
from the south, it is true, entertain me with 
their horses, equipages, and puns : and it is 
excessively pleasant to hear a couple of these 
four-in-hand gentlemen detail their exploits 



SALMAGUNDI. 



L5 



over a bottle. Those from the east have often 
induced me to doubt the existence of the wise 
men of yoie who are said to have flourished 
in that quarter ; and as for those from parts 
beyond seas — oh ! my masters, ye shall hear 
more from me anon. Heaven help this un- 
happy town ! — hath it not goslings enow of 
of its own hatching and rearing, that it must 
be overwhelmed by such an inundation of 
ganders from other climes? I would not 
have any of my courteous and gentle readers 
suppose that I am running a muck, full tilt, 
cut and slash, upon all foreigners indiscri- 
minately. I have no national antipathies, 
though related to the Cockloft family. As 
to honest John Bull, I shake him heartily 
by the hand, assuring him that I love his 
jolly countenance, and moreover am lineally 
descended from him ; in proof of which I 
allege my invincible predilection for roast 
beef and pudding. I therefore look upon all 
his children as my kinsmen; and I beg, 
when I tickle a cockney, I may not be under- 
stood as trimming an Englishman, they being 
very distinct animals, as I shall clearly de- 
monstrate in a future number. If any one 
wishes to know my opinion of the Irish and 
Scotch, he may find it in the characters of 
those two nations, drawn by the first advo- 
cate of the age. But the French, I must 
confess, are my favourites, and I have taken 
more pains to argue my cousin Pindar out of 
his antipathy to them, than I ever did about 
any other thing. When, therefore, I choose 
to hunt a Monsieur for my own particular 
amusement, I beg it may not be asserted that 
I intend him as a representative of his country- 
men at large. Far from this — I love the 
nation, as being a nation of right merry fel- 
lows, possessing the true secret of being 
happy ; which is nothing more than thinking 
of nothing, talking about any thing, and 
laughing at every thing. I mean only to 
tune up those little thing-o-my's, who repre- 
sent nobody but themselves; who have no 
national trait about them but their language, 
and who hop about our town in swarms like 
little toads after a shower. 

Among the few strangers whose acquaint- 
ance has entertained me, I particularly rank 
the magnanimous Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli 
Khan, a most illustrious captain of a ketch, 



who figured, sometime since, in our fashion- 
able circles, at the head of a ragged regiment 
of Tripolitan prisoners. His conversation 
was to me a perpetual feast; — I chuckled 
with inward pleasure at his whimsical mis- 
takes and unaffected observations on men and 
manners; and I rolled each odd conceit 
" like a sweet morsel under my tongue." 

Whether Mustapha was captivated by my 
iron bound physiognomy, or flattered by the 
attentions which I paid him I won't deter- 
mine; but I so far gained his confidence, 
that, at his departure, he presented me with a 
bundle of papers, containing, among other 
articles, several copies of letters, which he 
had written to his friends at Tripoli. The 
following is a translation of one of them. 
The original is in Arabic-Greek ; but by the 
assistance of Will Wizard, who understands 
all languages, not excepting that manufac- 
tured by Psalmanazar, I have been enabled 
to accomplish a tolerable translation. We 
should have found little difficulty in render- 
ing it into English, had it not been for 
Mustapha's confounded pot-hooks and tram- 
mels. 



LETTER 



FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, 

Captain of a Ketch, to Asem Hacchem, 
principal Slave driver to his Highness the 
Bashaw of Tripoli. 

Thou wilt learn from this letter most Illus- 
trious disciple of Mahomet, that I have for 
some time resided in New -York ; the most 
polished, vast, and magnificent city of the 

United States of America But what to me 

are its delights ! I wander a captive through its 
splendid streets, I turn a heavy eye on every 
rising day that beholds me banished from my 
country. The christian husbands here lament 
most bitterly any short absence from home, 
though they leave but one wife behind to la- 
ment their departure ; — what then must be 
the feelings of thy unhappy kinsman, while 
thus lingering at an immeasurable distance 
from three-and-twcnty of the most lovely and 
obedient wives in all Tripoli ! Oh ! Allah ! 
shall thy servant never again return to his 
native land, nor behold his beloved wives, 



1C 



SALMAGUNDI. 



who beam on his memory beautiful as the 
rosy morn of the east, and graceful as Maho- 
met's camel I 

Yet beautiful, oh, most puissant slave 
driver, as are my wives, they are far exceeded 
by the women of this country. Even those 
who run about the streets with bare arms and 
necks, (et catera) whose habiliments are too 
scanty to protect them either from the incle- 
mency of the seasons, or the scrutinizing 
glances of the curious, and who it would seem 
belong to nobody, are lovely as the houris 
that people the elysium of true believers. If 
then, such as run wild in the highways, and 
whom no one cares to appropriate are thus 
beauteous ; what must be the charms of those 
who are shut up in the seraglios, and never 
permitted to go abroad ! Surely the region 
of beauty, the valley of the graces, can con- 
tain nothing so inimitably fair ! 

But, notwithstanding the charms of these 
infidel women, they are apt to have one fault, 
which is extremely troublesome and incon- 
venient. Wouldst thou believe it, Asem, I 
have been positively assured by a famous 
dervise, (or doctor as he is here called) that 
at least one fifth part of them — have souls ! 
Incredible as it may seem to thee, I am the 
more inclined to believe them in possession 
of this monstrous superfluity, from my own 
little experience, and from the information 
which I have derived from others. In walk- 
ing the streets I have actually seen an exceed- 
ing good looking woman with soul enough 
to box her husband's ears to his heart's con- 
tent, and my very whiskers trembled with 
indignation at the abject state of these 
wretched infidels. I am told, moreover, that 
some of the women have soul enough to 
usurp the breeches of the men, but these I 
suppose are married and kept close; for I 
have not, in my rambles, met with any so 
extravagantly accoutred; others, I am in- 
formed, have soul enough to swear! — .yea! 
by the beard of the great Omar, who prayed 
three times to ' each of the one hundred and 
twenty-four thousand prophets of our most 
holy faith, and who never swore but once in 
his life — they actually swear ! 

Get thee to the mosque, good Asem ! re- 
turn thanks to our most holy prophet that 
he has been thus mindful of the comfort of 



all true Mussulmen, and has given them 
wives with no more 60uls than cats and dogs, 
and other necessary animals of the household. 
Thou wilt doubtless be anxious to learn 
our reception in this country, and how we 
were treated by a people whom we have been 
accustomed to consider as unenlightened bar- 
barians. 

On landing we were waited upon to our 
lodgings, I suppose according to the direc- 
tions of the municipality, by a vast and 
respectable escort of boys and negroes, who 
shouted and threw up their hats, doubtless 
to do honour to the magnanimous Mustapha, 
Captain of a ketch ; they were somewhat 
ragged and dirty in their equipments, but 
this was attributed to their republican simpli- 
city. One of them, in the zeal of admiration, 
threw an old shoe, which gave thy friend 
rather an ungenteel, salutation on one side of 
the head, whereat I was not a little offended, 
until the interpreter informed us that this 
was the customary manner in which great 
men were honoured in this country ; and that 
the more distinguished they were, the more 
they were subjected to the attacks and peltings 
of the mob. Upon this I bowed my head 
three times, with my hands to my turban, 
and made a speech in Arabic-Greek, which 
gave great satisfaction, and occasioned a 
shower of old shoes, hats, and so forth, that 
was exceedingly refreshing to us all. 

Thou wilt not as yet expect that I should 
give thee an account of the laws and politics 
of this country. I will reserve them for 
some future letter, when I shall be more ex- 
perienced in their complicated and seemingly 
contradictory nature. 

This empire is governed by a grand and 
most puissant bashaw, whom they dignify 
with the title of President. He is chosen by 
persons, who are chosen by an assembly, 
elected by the people — hence the mob is called 
the sovereign people — and the country, free; 
the body-politic doubtless resembling a vessel, 
which is best governed by its tail. The pre- 
sent bashaw is a very plain old gentleman — , 
something they say of a humourist, as he 
amuses himself with impaling butterflies and 
pickling tadpoles ; he is rather declining in 
popularity, having given great offence by 
wearing red breeches, and tying his horse to 



SALMAGUNDI. 



17 



a post.* The people of the United States 
have assured me that they themselves are the 
most enlightened nation under the sun ; hut 
thou knowest that the barbarians of the de- 
sert, who assemble at the summer solstice, to 
shoot their arrows at that glorious luminary, 
in order to extinguish his burning rays, make 
precisely the same boast; — which of them 
have the superior claim, I shall not attempt 
to decide. 

I have observed, with some degree of sur- 
prise, that the men of this country do not 
seem in haste to accommodate themselves 
even with the single wife which alone the 
laws permit them to marry ; this backward- 
ness is probably owing to the misfortune of 
their absolutely having no female mutes 
among them. Thou knowest how invaluable 
are these silent companions ; what a price is 
given for them in the east, and what enter- 
taining wives they make. What delightful 
entertainment arises from beholding the silent 
eloquence of their signs and gestures ; but a 
wife possessed both of a tongue and a soul — 
monstrous ! monstrous ! Is it astonishing that 
these unhappy infidels should shrink from 
a union with a woman so preposterously 
endowed ? 

Thou hast doubtless read in the works of 
Abul Faraj, the Arabian historian, the tradi- 
tion which mentions that the muses were 
once upon the point of falling together by the 
ears about the admission of a tenth among 
their number, until she assured them by 
signs, that she was dumb ; whereupon they 
received her with great rejoicing. I should, 
perhaps, inform thee that there are but nine 
Christian muses, who were formerly pagans, 
but have since been converted, and that in 
this country we never hear of a tenth, unless 
some crazy poet wishes to pay an hyperbo- 

* This is another allusion to the primitive habits of 
Mr. Jefferson, who, even while the First Magistrate 
Of the Republic, and on occasions when a little of 
the " pomp and circumstance" of office would not 
have been incompatible with that situation, was 
accustomed! to dress in the plainest garb, and when 
on horse-back to be without an attendant ; so that it 
not unfrequently happened that he might be seen, 
when the business of the State required his personal 
presence, riding up alone to the government house 
at Wasmngton, and, having tied his sjeed to the 
nearest post, proceed to transact the important busi- 
ness of the nation,— Edit. 



Ileal compliment to his mistress ; on which 
occasion it goes hard but she figures as a 
tenth muse, or fourth grace, even though she 
should be more illiterate than a Hottentot, 
and more ungraceful than a dancing-bear ! 
Since my arrival in thi3 country, I have met 
not leas than a hundred of these supernume- 
rary muses and graces — ajid may Allah 
preserve me from ever meeting any more. 

When I have studied this people more 
profoundly, I wilt write thee again ; in the 
mean time watch over my household, and do 
not beat my beloved wives, unless you catch 
them with their noses out at the window. 
Though far distant, and a slave, let me live 
in thy heart as thou liyest in mine : — think 
not, O ! friend of my soul, that the splen- 
dours of this luxurious capital, its gorgeous 
palaces, its stupendous mosques, and the 
beautiful females who run wild in herds 
about its streets, can obliterate thee from my 
remembrance. Thy name shall still be men- 
tioned in the five-and-twenty prayers which 
I offer up daily; and may our great pro- 
phet, after bestowing on thee all the blessings 
of this life, at length, in a good old age, lead 
thee gently by the hand, to enjoy the dignity 
of bashaw of three tails in the blissful bowers 
of Eden. 

MUSTAPHA. 



FASHIONS. 

BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

The following article is furnished me by a 
young Lady of unquestionable taste, and 
who is the oracle of fashion and frippery. 
Being deeply initiated into all the myste- 
ries of the toilet, she has promised me, 
^rom time to time, a similar detail. 

Mrs. Toole has for some time reigned 
unrivalled in the fashionable world, and had 
the supreme direction of caps, bonets, fea- 
thers, flowers, and tinsel. — She has dressed 
and undressed our ladies just as she pleased ; 
now loading them with velvet and wadding, 
now turning them adrift upon the world, to 
run shivering through the streets with scarcely 
a coyering to their — backs ; and now obliging 
them to drag a long train at their heels, like 
the tail of a paper kite. Her despotic sway, 
however, threatens to be limited. A dangerous 

2 



13 



SALMAGUNDI. 



rival has sprung up Li the person of Madame 
Bouchard, an intrepid little woman, fresh 
from the head-quarters of fashion and folly, 
and who has hurst like a second Bonaparte 
upon the fashionable world. Mrs. Toole, 
notwithstanding, seems determined to dispute 
her ground bravely for the honour of old 
England. The ladies have begun to arrange 
themselves under the banner of one or other 
of these heroines of the needle, and every 
thing portends open war. Madame Bouchard 
marches gallantly to the field, flourishing a 
flaming red robe for a standard, " flouting the 
skies;" and Mrs. Toole, no ways dismayed, 
sallies out under cover of a forest of artificial 
flowers, like Malcolm's host. Both parties 
•possess great merit, and both deserve the vic- 
tory. Mrs. Toole charges the highest, but 
Madame Bouchard makes the lowest courtesy. 
Madame Bouchard is a little short lady — nor 
is there any hope of her growing larger ; but 
then she is perfectly genteel — and so is Mrs. 
Toole. Mrs. Toole lives in Broadway, and 
Madame Bouchard in Courtlandt-street ; but 
Madame atones for the inferiority of her stand, 
by making two courtesies to Mrs. Toole^s one, 
and talking French like an angel. Mrs. 
Toole is the best looking — but Madame 
Bouchard wears a most bewitching little 
scrubby wig. Mrs. Toole is the tallest — but 
Madame Bouchard nas the longest nose. Mrs. 
Toole is fond of roast beef— but Madame is 
loyal in her adherence to onions : in short, so 
equally are the merits of the two ladies ba- 
lanced, that there is no judging which will 
" kick the beam." It, however, seems to be 
the prevailing opinion, that Madame Bou- 
chard will carry the day, because she wears a 
wig, has a long nose, talks French, loves 
onions, and does not charge above ten times 
as mueh for a thing as it is worth. 



Under the direction of these high pr 
of the beau-monde, the following is the 
fashionable morning dress for walking:—. 

If the weather be very cold, a thin muslin 
gown, or frock, is most advisable — because 
it agrees with the season, being perfectly cool. 
The neck, arms, and particularly the elbows, 
bare, in order that they may be agreeably 
painted and mottled by Mr. John Frost, nose- 



painter-general, of the colour of Castile soap. 
Shoes of kid, the thinnest that can possibly 
be procured, as they tend to promote colds, 
aDd makes a lady look interesting, (i.e. grizz- 
ly.) Picnic silk-stockings, with lace clocks 
— flesh-coloured are most fashionable, as they 
have the appearance of bare legs — nudity 
being all the rage. The stockings carelessly 
bespattered with mud, to agree with the gown, 
which should be bordered about three inches 
deep with the most fashionably coloured mud 
that can be found : the ladies permitted to 
hold up their trains, after they have swept two 
or three streets, in order to show— the clocks 
of their stockings. The shawl scarlet, crim- 
son, flame, orange, salmon, or any other com- 
bustible or brimstone colour, thrown over one 
shoulder, like an Indian blanket, with one 
end dragging on the ground. 

N.B. — If the ladies have not a red shawl 
at hand, a red petticoat turned topsy-turvy, 
oyer the shoulders, would do just as well. 
This is called being dressed a-la-drabble. 

When the ladies do not go abroad of a 
morning, the usual chimney-corner dress is a 
dotted, spotted, striped, or cross-barred gown 
— a yellowish, whitish, smokish, dirty-co- 
loured shawl, and the hair curiously orna- 
mented with little bits of newspapers, or 
pieces of a letter from a dear friend. This 
is called the " Cinderella dress." 

The recipe for a full-dress is as follow s : — 
Take of spider-net, crape, satin, gymp, cat- 
gut, gauze, whalebone, lace, bobbin, ribands, 
and artificial flowers, as much as will rig out 
the congregation of a village church ; to these, 
add as many spangles, beads, and gew-gaws, 
as would be sufficient to turn the heads of all 
the fashionable fair ones of Nootka Sound. 
Let Mrs. Toole, or Madame Bouchard, patch 
all these articles together, one upon another, 
dash them plentifully over with stars, bugles, 
and tinsel, and they will altogether form a 
dress, which, hung upon a lady's back, can- 
not fail of supplying the place of beauty, 
youth, and grace, and of reminding the spec- 
tator of that celebrated region of finery, called 
Rag Fair. 



One of the greatest sources of amusement 
incident to our humourous knight-errantry, 



SALMAGUNDI. 



19 



is to ramble about and hear the various con- 
jectures of the town respecting our worships, 
whom every body pretends to know as well as 
Falstaff did Prince Hal at Gadshill. We 
have sometimes seen a sapient, sleepy fellow, 
on being tickled with a straw, make a furious 
effort, and fancy he had fairly caught a gnat 
in his grasp ; so, that many-headed monster, 
the public, who, with all his heads, is, we 
fear, sadly off for brains, has, after long 
hovering, come souse down, like a king-fisher, 
on the authors of Salmagundi, and caught 
them as certainly as the aforesaid honest fel- 
low caught the gnat. 

Would that we were rich enough to give 
every one of our numerous readers a cent, as 
a reward for their ingenuity ! not that they 
have really conjectured within a thousand 
leagues of the truth, but that we consider it a 
great stretch of ingenuity even to have guessed 
wrong ; and that we hold ourselves much 
obliged to them for having taken the trouble 
to guess at all. 

One of the most tickling, dear, mischievous 
pleasures of this life is to laugh in one's 
sleeve — to sit snug in a corner, unnoticed and 
unknown, and hear the wise men of Gotham, 
who are profound judges of horse-flesh, pro- 
nounce, from the style of our work, who are 
the authors. This listening incog, and re- 
ceiving a hearty praising over another man's 
back, is a situation so celestially whimsical, 
that we have done little else than laugh in 
our sleeve ever since our first number was 
published. 

The town has at length allayed the titilla- 
tions of curiosity, by fixing on two young 
gentlemen of literary talents ; that is to say, 
they are equal to the composition of a news- 
paper squib, a hodge-podge criticism, or 
some such trifle, and may occasionally raise a 
smile by their effusions ; but pardon us, sweet 
Sirs, if we modestly doubt your capability of 
supporting the burthen of Salmagundi, or of 
keeping up a laugh for a whole fortnight, as 
we have done, and intend to do, until the 
whole town becomes a community of laugh- 
ing philosophers like ourselves. We have 
no intention, however, of undervaluing the 
abilities of those two young men, whom we 
verily believe, according to common accepta- 
tion, young men of promise. 
C 2 



Were we ill-natured, we might publish 
something that would get our representatives 
into difficulties ; but far be it from us to do 
any thing to the injury of persons to whom 
we are under such obligations. 

While they stand before us, we, like little 
Teucer, behind the sevenfold shield of Ajax, 
can launch unseen our sportive arrows, which 
we trust will never inflict a wound unless 
like his they fly, " heaven directed," to some 
conscious-struck bosom. 

Another marvellous great source of plea- 
sure to us, is the abuse our work has received 
from several wooden gentlemen, whose cen- 
sures we covet more than ever we did any 
thing in our lives. The moment we declared 
open war against folly and stupidity we ex- 
pected to receive no quarter, and to provoke a 
confederacy of all the blockheads in town. 
For it is one of our indisputable facts, that so 
soon as you catch a gander by the tail, the 
whole flock, geese, goslings, one and all, have 
a fellow-feeling on the occasion, and begin to 
cackle and hiss like so many devils bewitched. 
As we have a profound respect for these an- 
cient and respectable birds, on the score of 
their once saving the capitol, we hereby de- 
clare, that we mean no offence whatever by 
comparing thenuto the aforesaid confederacy. 
We have heard in our walks such criticisms 
on Salmagundi, as almost induced a belief 
that folly had here, as in the east, her mo- 
ments of inspired idiotism. Every silly roys- 
ter has, as if by an instinctive sense of antici- 
pated danger, joined in the cry, and condemned 
us without mercy. All is thus as it should 
be. It would have mortified us very sensibly 
had we been disappointed in this particular, 
as we should then have been apprehensive 
that our shafts had fallen to the ground, in- 
nocent of the "blood or brains" of a single 
numskull. Our efforts have been crowned 
with wonderful success. All the queer fish, 
the grubs, the flats, the noddies, and the live 
oak and timber gentlemen, are pointing their 
empty guns at us ; and we are threatened 
with a most puissant confederacy of the " pig- 
mies and cranes," and other " light militia," 
backed by the heavy armed artillery of dull- 
ness and stupidity. The veriest dreams of 
our most sanguine moments are thus realized. 
We have no fear of the censures of the wise, 



20 



SALMAGUNDI. 



the good, or the fair ; for they'will ever be 
sacred from our attacks. We reverence the 
wise, love the good, and adore the fair ; we 
declare ourselves champions in their cause- 
is the cause of morality — and we throw our 
gauntlet to all the world besides 

While we profess and feel the same indif- 
ference to public applause as at first, we most 
earnestly invite the attacks and censures of 
all the wooden warriors of this sensible city, 
and especially of that distinguished and learned 
bGdy, heretofore celebrated under the appel- 
lation of " The North-river Society." The 
The thrice valiant and renowned Don Quixote 
never made such work amongst the wool-clad 
warriors of Trapoban, or the puppets of the 
itinerant showman, as we promise to make 
amongst these fine fellows ; and we pledge 
ourselves to the public in general, and the 
Albany skippers in particular, that the North- 
river sliall not be set on fire this winter at 
least, for we shall give the authors of that 
nefarious scheme ample employment for some 
time to come. 



PROCLAMATION, 

FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. 

To all the young belles who enliven our scene, 
From ripe five-and-forty to blooming fifteen ; 
Who racket at routs, and who rattle at plays; 
Who visit, and fidget, and dance out their days ; 
Who conquer all hearts with a shot from the eye, 
Who freeze with a frown, and who thaw with a sigh : 
To all those bright youths who embellish the age, 
Whether young boys, or old boys, or numskull, or 

sage ; 
Whether dull dogs, who cringe at their mistress' 

feet, 
Who sigh and who whine, and who try to look sweet ; 
Whether tough dogs, who squat down stock still in a 

row., 
And play wooden gentlemen stuck up for show ; 
Or sad dogs, who glory in running their rigs, 
How dash in their sleighs, and now whirl in their 

gigs ; 
Who riot at Dyde's on imperial champagne, 
And then scour our city — the peace to maintain : 

To whome'er it concerns or may happen to meet, 
By these presents their worships I lovingly greet 
Now know ye, that I, Pindar Cockloft, esquire, 
Am laureate appointed at special desire ; 
A censor, self-dubbd, to admonish the fair, 
And tenderly take the town under my care. 

I'm a ci-devant beau, cousin Launcelot has said— 
A remnant of habits long vanish'd and dead: 



But still, though my heart dwells with rapture sub- 
lime, 
On the fashions and customs which reign'd at my 

prime, 
I yet can perceive— and still candidly praise, 
Some maxims and manners of these Matter days;» 
Still own that some wisdom and beauty appears, 
Though almost entomb'd in the rubbish of years. 

No fierce nor tyrannical cynic am I, 
Who frown on each foible I chance to espy ; 
Who pounce on a novelty, just like a kite, 
And tear up a victim through malice or spite 
Who expose to the scoffs of an ill-natur'd crew, 
A trembler for starting a whim that is new. 
No, no — I shall cautiously hold up my glass, 
To the sweet little blossoms who heedlessly pass ; 
My remarks not too pointed to wound or offend, 
Nor so vague as to miss their benevolent end: 
Each innocent fashion shall have its full sway ; 
New modes shall arise to astonish Broadway ; 
Red hats and red shawls still illumine the town, 
And each belle, like a bon-fire, blaze up and down. 

Fair spirits, who brighten the gloom of our days, 
Who cheer this dull scene with your heavenly rays, 
No mortal can love you more firmly and true, 
From the crown of the head to the sole of your shoe. 
I'm old-fashion'd, 'tis true — but still runs in my heart 
That affectionate stream, to which youth gave the 

start — 
More calm in its current, yet potent in force ; 
Less ruffled by gales— but still stedfast in course. 
Though the lover, enraptur'd, no longer appears— 
'Tis the guide and the guardian enlighten'd by years, 
All ripen'd, and rneliow'd, and soften'd by time, - 
The asperities polish'd which chafed in my prime ; 
I am fully prepar'd for that delicate end, 
The fair one's instructor, companion, and friend. 
— And should I perceive you in fashion's gay dance, 
Allured by the frippery mongers of France, 
Expose your weak frames to a chill wintry sky 
To be nipp'd by its frosts, to be torn from the eye ; 
My soft admonitions shall fall on your ear — 
Shall whisper those parents to whom you are dear — 
Shall warn you of hazards you heedlessly run, 
And sing of those fair ones whom frost has undone ; 
Bright suns that would scarce on our horizon dawn, 
Ere shrouded from sight, they were early withdrawn : 
Gay sylphs, who have floated in circles below, 
As pure in their souls, and as transient as snow ; 
Sweet roses, that bloom'd and decay'd to my eye, 
And of forms that have flitted and pass'd to the sky. 

But as to those brainless pert bloods of our town, 
Those sprigs of the ton who run decency down ; 
Who lounge and who loot, and who booby about, 
No knowledge within, and no manners withoct ; 
Who stare at each beauty with insolent eyes ; 
Who rail at those morals their fathers would prize ; 
Who are loud at the play, and who impiously dare 
To come in their cups to the routs of the fair ; 
I shall hold up my mirror, to let them survey 
The figures they cut as they dash it away ; 
Should my good-humoured verse no amendment pro- 
duce, 
Like scare-crows, at least, they shall still be of use; 



SALMAGUNDI. 



I shall stich tnem, in effigy, up in my rhyme, 

And hold them aloft through the progress of time, 

As figures of fun to make the folks laugh, 

Like that queer-looking angel erected by Paff, 

" What shtops," as he says, * all de people what 

come; 
"What smiles on dem all, and what peats on de 

trum." 



No. 4. 
TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 1807- 

FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

Perhaps there is no class of men to which 
the curious and literary are more indebted 
than travellers — I mean travel-mongers, who 
write whole volumes about themselves, their 
horses, and their servants, interspersed with 
anecdotes of inn-keepers, droll sayings of 
stage-drivers, and interesting memoirs of — the 
lord knows who. They will give you a full 
account of a city, its manners, customs, and 
manufactures ; though, perhaps, all their 
knowledge of it was obtained by a peep from 
their inn-windows, and an interesting conver- 
sation with the landlord or the waiter. Ame- 
rica has had its share of these buzzards ; and 
in the name of my countrymen I return them 
profound thanks for the compliments they 
have lavished upon us, and the variety of 
particulars concerning our own country which 
we should never have discovered without their 
assistance. 

Influenced by such sentiments, I am de- 
lighted to find the Cockloft family, among 
its other whimsical and monstrous produc- 
tions, is about to be enriched with a genuine 
travel-writer. This is no less a personage 
than Mr. Jeremy Cockloft, the only son 
and darling pride of my cousin, Mr. Christo- 
pher Cockloft. I should have said Jeremy 
Cockloft, tlie younger, as he so styles him- 
self, by way of distinguishing him from II 
Signore Jeremy Cockloftico, a gouty old gen- 
tleman, who flourished about the time that 
Pliny the elder was smoked to death with the 
fire and brimstone of Vesuvius ; and whose 
travels, if he ever wrote any, are now lost for 
ever to the world. Jeremy is at present in 
hi? one-and-twentieth year, and a young fel- 
low of wonderful quick parts, if you will trust 
to the word of his father, who, having be- 
gotten him, should be the best judge of the 
C 3 



matter. He is the oracle of the family, dic- 
tates to his sisters on every occasion, though 
they are some dozen or more years older than 
himself; and never did son give mother bet- 
ter advice than Jeremy. 

As old Cockloft was determined his son 
should be both a scholar and a gentleman, Kt 
took great pains with his education, which 
was completed at our university, where he 
became exceedingly expert in quizzing his 
teachers and playing billiards. No student 
made better squibs and crackers to blow up 
the chemical professor — no one chalked more 
ludicrous caricatures on the walls of the col- 
lege — and none were more adroit in shaving 
pigs and climbing lightning rods. He, more- 
over, learned all the letters of the Greek al- 
phabet; could demonstrate that water never 
" of its own accord " rose above the level of 
its source; and that air was certainly the 
principle of life, for he had been entertained 
with the humane experiment of a cat worried 
to death in an air-pump. He once shook 
down the ash-house, by an artificial earth- 
quake ; and nearly blew his sister Barbara 
and her cat out of the window with detonating 
powder. He likewise boasts exceedingly of 
being thoroughly" acquainted with the com- 
position of Lacedemonian black broth ; and 
once made a pot of it, which had well nigh 
poisoned the whole family, and actually threw 
the cook-maid into convulsions. But above 
all, he values himself upon his logic, has the 
old college conundrum of the cat with three 
tails at his fingers' ends, and often hampers 
his father with his syllogisms, to the great 
delight of the old gentleman ; who considers 
the major, minor, and conclusion, as almost 
equal in argument to the pulky, the w?dge, 
and the lever, in mechanics. In fact, my 
cousin Cockloft was once nearly annihilated 
with astonishment, on hearing Jeremy trae«2 
the derivation of Mango from Jeremiah King : 
as Jeremiah King, Jerry King ! Jerking, 
Girkin ! cucumber, Mango ! In short,' had 
Jeremy been a student at Oxford or Cam- 
bridge, he would, in all probability, have 
been promoted to the dignity of a senior 
wrangler. By this sketch, I mean no dis- 
paragement to the abilities of other students 
of our college, for I have no doubt that every 
commencement ushers into society luminaries 



SALMAGUNDI. 



full as brilliant as Jeremy Cockloft, the 
younger. 

Having made a very pretty speech on gra- 
duating, to a numerous assemblage of old 
folks and young ladies, who all declared that 
he was a very fine young man, and made very 
handsome gestures, Jeremy was seized with 
a great desire to see, or rather to be seen by 
the world ; and as his father was anxious to 
give him every possible advantage, it was de- 
termined Jeremy should visit foreign parts. 
In consequence of this resolution, he has spent 
a matter of three or four months in visiting 
strange places ; and in the course of his tra- 
vel's has tarried some few days at the splendid 
metropolis of Albany and Philadelphia. 

Jeremy has travelled as every modern man 
of sense should do ; that is, he judges of 
things by the sample next at hand ; if he has 
ever any doubt on a subject, always decides 
against the city where he happens to sojourn ; 
and invariably takes home, as the standard 
by which to direct his judgment. 

Going into his room the other day, when 
he happened to be absent, I found a manu- 
script volume laying on his table ; and was 
overjoyed to find it contained notes and hints 
for a book of travels which he intends pub- 
lishing. He seems to have taken a late 
fashionable travel-monger for his model, and 
I have no doubt his work will be equally in- 
structive and amusing with that of his proto- 
type. The following are some extracts, which 
may not prove uninteresting to my readers. 



MEMORANDUMS FOR A TOUR, 

TO BE ENTITLED, 
" THE STRANGER IN NEW- JERSEY; 

OR, COCKNEY TRAVELLING."* 

By Jeremy Cockloft, the Younger. 
CHAP. I. 

The man in the moon-f- — preparations for 
departure — hints to travellers about packing 

* It is not a little singular, that this mode of ridi- 
culing the gossiping productions of Sir John Carr, 
and other tourists of the day, should have been suc- 
cessfully adopted almost at the same time by two 
writers placed in different and distant quarters of the 
globe. " My Pocket-Book » appeared in London only 
two or three weeks after the publication of these 

f Vide Carrs Stranger in Ireland. 



their trunks *— straps, buckles, and bed- 
cords — case of pistols, d la cockney — five 
trunks — three bandboxes — a cocked hat — and 
a medicine-chest, a la Francaise — parting 
advice of my two sisters — quere, why old 
maids are so particular in their cautions 
against naughty women — description of Powles 
Hook ferry-boats — might be converted into 
gun-boats, and defend our port equally well 
with Albany sloops — Brom, the black ferry- 
man-— Charon — river Styx — ghosts ; — Major 
Hunt — good story — ferryage nine-pence ; — 
city of Harsimus — built on the spot where 
the folk; once danced on their stumps while 
the devil fiddled ; — quere, why do the Har- 
simites talk Dutch ? — story of the tower of 
Babel, and confusion of tongues — get into the 
stage — driver a wag — famous fellow for run- 
ning stage races — killed three passengers and 
crippled nine in the course of his practice — 
philosophical reasons why stage-drivers love 
grog — causeway — ditch on each side for folk 
to tumble into — famous place for skilly-pots ; 
Philadelphians call 'em tarapins — roast them 
under the ashes as we do potatoes — quere, 
may not this be the reason that the Philadel- 
phians are all turtle-heads? — Hackensack 
bridge— -good painting of a blue horse jump- 
ing over a mountain — wonder who it was 
painted by ; — mem. to ask the Baron de 
Custo about it on my return ; — Rattle-snake 
hill, so called from abounding with butter- 
flies ; — salt marsh, surmounted here and 
there by a solitary hay-stack ; — more tarapins 
—wonder why the Philadelphians don't esta- 
blish a fishery here, and get a patent for it ? 
—bridge over the Passaic — rate of toll— de- 
scription of toll-boards — toll man had but 
one eye — story how it is possible he may have 
lost the other — pence-table, &c.-]- 

CHAP. II. 

Newark — noted for its fine breed of fat 
musquitoes — sting through the thickest boot $ 
story about Gallynipers — Archer Gifford and 
his man Caliban— jolly fat fellows ; — a know- 
ing traveller always judges of every thing by 

« Memorandums » in New-York— so that neither 
writer could possibly have borrowed from the other 
—and by its ingenious pleasantry and poignant satire, 
crushed a whole host of hook-making tourists, with 
the luckless fcnight at their head.*- Edit. 
' * Vide Weld. t Vide Carr. ; Vide Weld. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



23 



the inn-keepers and waiters;* — set down 
Newark people all fat as butter — learned dis- 
sertation on Archer Gifford's green coat, with 
philosophical reasons why the Newarkites 
wear red worsted night-caps, and turn their 
noses to the south when the wind blows- 
Newark academy full of windows — sunshine 
excellent to make little boys grow — Eliza- 
beth-town — fine girls — vile musquitoes — 
plenty of oysters — quere, have oysters any 
feeling ? — good story about the fox catching 
them by his tail — ergo, foxes might be of 
great use in the pearl fishery: — landlord 
member of the legislature — treats every body 
who has a vote — mem. all the inn-keepers 
members of legislature in New Jersey; — 
Bridge-town, vulgarly called Spank-town, 
from a story of a quondam parson and his 
wife — real name, according to Linkum Fide- 
lius, Bridge-town, from bridge, a contrivance 
to get dry shod over a river or brook ; and 
town, an appellation given in America to the 
accidental assemblage of a church, a tavern, 
and a blacksmith's shop — Linkum as right 
as my left leg ; — Rahway-river — good place 
for gun -boats — wonder why Mr. Jefferson 
don't send a river fleet there, to protect the 
hay vessels ; — Woodbridge — landlady mend- 
ing her husband's breeches — sublime apos- 
trophe to conjugal affection and the fair sex;-J- 
— Woodbridge famous for its crab-fishery-»— 
sentimental correspondence between a crab 
and a lobster — digression to Abelard and 
Eloisa ; — mem. when the moon is in Pisces, 
she plays the devil with the crabs. 

CHAP. III. 

Brunswick — oldest town in the state — di- 
vision line between two counties in the mid- 
dle of the street ; — posed a lawyer with the 
case of a man standing with one foot in each 
county — wanted to know in which he was do- 
micil — lawyer couldn't tell for the soul of 
him— mem. all the New Jersey lawyers 
nums ; — Miss Hay's boarding-school — young 
ladies not allowed to eat mustard — and why ; 
— fat story of a mustard-pot, with a good 

* Vide Moore ; vide Weld ; vide Parkinson ; vide 
Priest ; vide Linkum Fidelius ; and vide Messrs. 
Tag, Ras, and Bobtail. 

f Vide the sentimental Kotzebue v 



saying of Ding-Dong's i Vernon's tavern — 
fine place to sleep in, if the noise would let 
you — another Caliban ; — . Vernon slew-eyed— ~ 
people of Brunswick, of course, all squint ; 
— Drake's tavern — fine old blade — wears 
square buckles in his shoes — tells bloody long 
stories about last war — people, of course, all 
do the same ; — Hook'em Snivy, the famous 
fortune-teller, born here — contemporary with 
Mother Shoulders — particulars of his history 
—died one day — lines to his memory, which 
found their way into my pocket-book ;* — me- 
lancholy reflections on the death of great men 
beautiful epitaph on mvself. 



Princeton — college — professors wear 
boots ! — students famous for their love of a 
jest — set the college on fire, and burnt out 
the professors ; an excellent joke, but not 
worth repeating — mem. American students 
very much addicted to burning down colleges 
— reminds me of a good story, nothing at all 
to the purpose — two societies in the college 
—good notion — encourages emulation, and 
makes little boys fight ; — students famous for 
their eating and erudition — saw two at the 
tavern, who had just got their allowance of 
spending money — laid it all out in a supper 
— got fuddled, and d — d the professors for 
nincoms. N. B. Southern gentlemen — 
church-yard — apostrophe to grim death — saw 
a cow feeding on a grave — metempsychosis — 
who knows but the cow may have been eating 
up the soul of one of my ancestors — made 
me melancholy and pensive for fifteen mi- 
nutes ; — man planting cabbages -f — wonder- 
ed how he could plant them so straight — 
method of mole-catching — and all that — 
quere, whether it would not be a good notion 
to ring their noses as we do pigs — mem. to 
propose it to the American Agricultural So- 
ciety get a premium, perhaps ; — commence- 
ment—students give a ball and supper — com- 
pany from New York, Philadelphia, and 

Albany great contest which spoke the best 

English — Albanians vociferous in their de- 
mand for sturgeon — Fhiladelphians gave the 
preference to racoon % and splacnunes — gave 

* Vide Carr and Blind Bet 
Vide Care. % Vide Priest. 



21 



SALMAGUNDI, 



them a long dissertation on the phlegmatic 
nature of a gooseys gizzard-— -stttdents can't 

dance always set off with the wrong foot 

foremost — Duport's opinion on that subject 
—Sir Christopher Hatton the first man who 
ever turned out his toes in dancing— great fa- 
vourite with Queen Bess on that account- 
Sir "Walter Raleigh — -good story about his 
smoking — his descent into New Spain — El 
Dorado — Uandid — Dr. Panglos — Miss Cune- 
gunde — earthquake at Lisbon — Baron ;of 
Thunderte'ntronck — Jesuits — Monks — Car- 
dinal Wolsey — Pope Joan — Tom Jefferson — 

Tom Paine, and Tom the whew ! 

N. B. Students got drunk as usual. 

CHAF. V. 

Left Princeton — country finely diversified 
with sheep and hay-stacks* — ^saw a man 
riding alone in a waggon ! why the deuce 
didn't the blockhead ride in a chair ? fellow 
must be a fool-~particular account of the 
construction of waggons — carts, wheelbarrows 
and quail-traps — saw a large flock of crows- 
concluded there must be a dead horse in the 
neighbourhood — mem. country remarkable for 
crows — won't let the horses die in peace— 
anecdote of a jury of crows-— stopped to give 
the horses water — good looking man came up, 
and asked me if I had seen his wife ? Hea- 
vens ! thought I, how strange it is that this 
virtuous man should ask me about his wife — 
story of Cain and Abel — stage-driver took a 
swig — mem. set down all the people as drunk- 
ards — old house had moss on the top — swal- 
lows built in the roof — better place than old 
men's beards — story about that — derivation of 
"Vords, kippy , kippy, kippy, and shoo-pig -f- 
— negro- driver could not v/rite his own name 
—languishing state of literature in this coun- 
try ; % — philosophical inquiry of 'Sbidlikens, 
why the Americans are so much inferior to 
the mobility of Cheapside and Shore-ditch, 
and why they do not eat plum-pudding on 
Sundays ; superfine reflections about any 
thing. 

CHAP. VI 

Trenton — built above the head of naviga- 
tion to encourage commerce — capital of the 

■» Vide Carr. 

f Vide Carrs learned derivation of gee and whoa. 

% Moore. 



state — only wants a castle, a bay, a iroun* 
tain, a sea, and a volcano, to bear a strong 
resemblance to the Bay of Naples — supreme 
court sitting — fat Chief Justice — used to get 
asleep on the bench after dinner — gave judg- 
ment, I suppose, like Pilate's wife, from his 
dreams — reminded me of Justice Bridlegoose 
deciding by a throw of a die, and of the 
oracle of the holy bottle — attempted to kiss 
the chambermaid — boxed my ears till they 
rung like our theatre bell — girl had lost one 
tooth — mem. all the American ladies prudes, 
and have bad teeth ; — Anacreon Moore's 
opinion on the matter. — State-house — fine 
place to see the sturgeons jump up— quere, 
whether sturgeons jump up by an impulse of 
the tail, or whether they bounce up from the 
bottom by the elasticity of their noses — Lin- 

kum Fidelius of the latter opinion — I to6 , 

sturgeon's nose capital for tennis-balls — leamt 
that at school — went to a ball — negro wench 
principal musician ! — N. B. People of Ame- 
rica have no fiddlers but females ! — origin of 
the phrase, " fiddle of your heart" — reasons 

why men fiddle better than the women ; 

expedient of the Amazons who were expert 
at the bow ; — waiter at the city tavern — good 
story of his— nothing to the purpose — never 
mind — fill up my book like Carr — make it 
sell. Saw a democrat get into the stage fol- 
lowed by his dog.-j- N. B. This town re- 
markable for dogs and democrats — superfine 
sentiment + — good story from Joe Miller — 
ode to a piggin of butter — pensive medita- 
tions on a mouse-hole — make a book as clear 
as a whistle ! 






No. V. 
SATURDAY, MARCH 7, 1807. 

FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

TaiE following letter of my friend Mustapha 
appears to have been written some time sub- 
sequent to the one already published. Were 
I to judge from its contents, I should sup- 
pose it was suggested by the splendid review 
of the twenty-fifth of last November ; when 
a pair of colours was presented, at the City- 
Hall, to the regiments of artillery, and when 
a huge dinner was devoured, by our corpora- 



Carr. 



t Moore, 



fc Carr. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



25 



tion, in the honourable remembrance of the 
evacuation of this city. I am happy to find 
that the laudable spirit of military emulation 
which prevails in our city has attracted the 
attention of a stranger of Mustapha's saga- 
city; by military emulation 1 mean that 
spirited rivalry in the size of a hat, the length 
of a feather, and the gingerbread finery of a 
sword belt. 



LETTER 

FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, 

To Abdullah EVn al Rahab, sumamed the 
Snorer, military sentinel at the gate of his 
Highness* Palace. 

Thou hast heard, O ! Abdallah, of the 
great magician, Muley Fuz, who could 
change a blooming land, blessed with all the 
elysian charms of hill and dale, of glade and 
grove, of fruit and flower, into a desert, 
frightful, solitary, and forlorn; — who with 
the wave of his wand could transform even 
the disciples of Mahomet into grinning apes 
and chattering monkeys. Surely, thought I 
to myself this morning, the dreadful Muley 
has been exercising his infernal enchantments 
on these unhappy infidels. Listen, O ! Ab- 
dallah, and wonder ! Last night I commit- 
ted myself to tranquil slumber, encompassed 
with all the monotonous tokens of peace, and 
this morning I awoke, enveloped in the noise, 
the bustle, the clangor, and the shouts of 
war. Every thing was changed as if by ma- 
gic. An immense army had sprung up, like 
mushrooms, in a night ; and all the cobblers, 
tailors, and tinkers of the city had mounted 
the nodding plume ; had become, in the 
twinkling of an eye, helmeted heroes and 
war-worn veterans. 

Alarmed at the beating of drums, the 
braying of trumpets, and the shouting of the 
multitude, I dressed myself in haste, sallied 
forth, and followed a prodigious crowd of 
people to a place called the battery. This is 
so denominated, I am told, from having once 
been defended with formidable wooden bul- 
warks, which in the course of a hard winter 
were thriftily pulled to pieces by an economic 
corporation, to be distributed for fire-wood 
among the poor ; this was done at the hint of 



a cunning old engineer, who assured them it 
was the only way in which their fortifications 
would ever be able to keep up a warm fire. 
Economy, my friend, is the watch-word of 
this nation ; I have been studying for a 
month past to divine its meaning, but truly 
am as much perplexed as ever. It is a kind 
of national starvation ; an experiment how 
many comforts and necessaries the body poli- 
tic can be deprived of before it perishes. — It 
has already arrived to a lamentable degree of 
debility, and promises to share the fate of the 
Arabian philosopher, who proved that he 
could live without food, but unfortunately 
died just as he had brought his experiment to 
perfection. 

On arriving at the battery I found an im- 
mense army of six hundred men, drawn up 
in a true Mussulman crescent. At first I 
supposed this was in compliment to myself, 
but my interpreter informed me that it was 
done merely for want of room ; the corpora- 
tion not being able to afford them sufficient to 
display in a straight line. As I expected a 
display of some grand evolutions and military 
manoeuvres, I determined to remain a tran- 
quil spectator, in hopes that I might possibly 
collect some hints which might be of service 
to his Highness. 

This great body of men I perceived was 
under the command of a small bashaw, in 
yellow and gold, with white nodding plumes 
and most formidable whiskers ; which, con- 
trary to the Tripolitan fashion, were in the 
neighbourhood of his ears instead of his nose. 
— He had -two attendants called aids-de-camp, 
(or tails) being similar to a bashaw with two 
tails. The bashaw, though commander-in- 
chief, seemed to have little more to do than 
myself; he was a spectator within the lines 
and I without : he was clear of the rabble 
and I was encompassed by them ; this was 
the only difference between us, except that he 
had the best opportunity of showing his 
clothes. I waited an hour or two with ex- 
emplary patience, expecting to see some grand 
military evolutions or a sham battle exhibi- 
ted ; but no such thing took place ; the men 
stood stock still, supporting their arms, 
groaning under the fatigues of war, and now 
and then sending out a foraging party to levy 
contributions of beer and a favourite beverage 



SALMAGUNDI. 



which they denominate grog. As I perceived 
the crowd very active in examining the line, 
from one extreme to the other, and as I could 
see no other purpose for which these sunshine 
warriors should be exposed so long to the 
merciless attacks of wind and weather, I of 
course concluded that this must be the 
review. 

In about two hours the army was put in 
motion, and marched through some narrow 
streets, where Jhe economic corporation had 
carefully provided a soft carpet of mud, to a 
magnificent castle of painted brick, decorated 
with grand pillars of pine boards. By the 
ardour which brightened in each countenance, 
I soon perceived that this castle was to un- 
dergo a vigorous attack. As the ordnance of 
the castle was perfectly silent, and as they 
had nothing but a straight street to advance 
through, they made their approaches with 
great courage and admirable regularity, until 
within about a hundred feet of the castle a 
pump opposed a formidable obstacle in their 
way, and put the whole army to a nonplus. 
The circumstance was sudden and unlooked 
for : the commanding officer ran over all the 
military tactics with which his head was 
crammed, but none offered any expedient for 
the present awful emergency. The pump 
maintained its post, and so did the comman- 
der ; — there was no knowing which was most 
at a stand. The commanding officer ordered 
his men to wheel and take it in flank ; — the 
army accordingly wheeled and came full butt 
against it in the rear, exactly as they were 
before : — " wheel to the left !" cried the offi- 
cer: they did so, and again as before, the 
inveterate pump intercepted their progress. 
" Right about, face !" cried the officer : the 
men obeyed, but bungled — they faced back 
to back. Upon this the bashaw with two 
tails, with great coolness, undauntedly or- 
dered his men to push right forward, pell- 
mell, pump or no pump; they gallantly 
obeyed. — After unheard-of acts of bravery, 
the pump was carried, without the loss of a 
man, and the army firmly intrenched itself 
under the very walls of the castle. The ba- 
shaw had then a council of war with his offi- 
cers; the most vigorous measures were re- 
solved on. An advance guard of musicians 
were ordered to attack the castle without 



mercy. Then the whole fcand opened a most 
tremendous battery of drums, fifes, tambou- 
rines, and trumpets, and kept up a thunder- 
ing assault, as if the castle, like the walls of 
Jericho, spoken of in the Jewish Chronicles, 
would tumble down at the blowing of rams* 
horns. After some time a parley ensued. 
The grand bashaw of the city appeared on 
the battlements of the castle, and, as far as 
I could understand from circumstances, dared 
the little bashaw of two tails to single com- 
bat ; — this, thou knowest, was in the style! 
of ancient chivalry. The little bashaw dis- 
mounted with great intrepidity, and ascended 
the battlements of the castle, where the great 
bashaw waited to receive him, attended by 
numerous dignitaries and worthies of his 
court, one of whom bore the splendid ban- 
ners of the castle. The battle was carried on. 
entirely by words, according to the universal 
custom of this country, of which I shall 
speak to thee more fully hereafter. The 
grand bashaw made a furious attack in a 
speech of considerable length ; the little ba- 
shaw, by no means appalled, retorted with 
great spirit. The grand bashaw attempted 
to rip him up with an argument, or stun him 
with a solid fact ; but the little bashaw par- 
ried them both with admirable adroitness, and 
run him clean through and through with a 
syllogism. The grand bashaw was over- 
thrown, the banners of the castle yielded up 
to the little bashaw, and the castle surren-i 
dered after a vigorous defence of three hours 
— during which the besiegers suffered great 
extremity from muddy streets and a drizzling 
atmosphere. 

On returning to dinner, I soon discovered 
that as usual I had been indulging in a great 
mistake. The matter was all clearly explain- 
ed to me by a fellow lodger, who on ordinary 
occasions moves in the humble character of a 
tailor, but in the present instance figured in 
a high military station, denominated corporal. 
He informed me that v/hat I had mistaken 
for a castle was the splendid palace of the 
municipality, and that the supposed attack 
was nothing more than the delivery of a flag 
given by the authorities, to the army, for its 
magnanimous defence of the town for upwards 
of twenty years past, that is, ever since the 
last war ! O ! my friend, surely every thing in 



SALMAGUNDI. 



27 



this country is on a great scale ! The conver- 
sation insensibly turned upon the military 
establishment of the nation ; and I do assure 
thee that my friend, the tailor, though being, 
according to the national proverb, but the 
ninth part of a man, yet acquitted himself 
on military concerns as ably as the grand 
bashaw of the empire himself, He observed 
that their rulers had decided that wars were 
very useless and expensive, and ill befitting 
an economic, philosophic, nation ; they had, 
therefore, made up their minds never to have 
any wars, and consequently there was no 
need of soldiers or military discipline. As, 
however, it was thought highly ornamental 
to a city to have a number of men drest in 
fine clothes and feathers strutting about the 
streets on a holiday — and as the women and 
children were particularly fond of such raree 
shows, it was ordered that the tailors of the 
different cities throughout the empire should 
forthwith go to work, and cut out and manu- 
facture soldiers as fast as their sheers and 
needles would permit. 

These soldiers have no pecuniary pay; 
and their only recompense for the immense 
services which they render their country, in 
their voluntary parades, is the plunder of 
smiles, and winks, and nods, which they ex- 
tort from the ladies. As they have no oppor- 
tunity, like the vagrant Arabs, of making in- 
roads on their neighbours, and as it is neces- 
sary to keep up their military spirit, the town 
is therefore now and then, but particularly on 
two days of the year, given up to their ravages. 
The arrangements are contrived with admi- 
rable address, so that every officer from the 
bashaw down to the drum-major, the chief 
of the eunuchs or musicians, shall have his 
share of that invaluable booty. — the admira- 
tion of the fair. As to the soldiers, poor 
animals, they, like the privates in all great 
armies, have to bear the brunt of danger and 
fatigue, while the officers receive all the 
glory and reward. The narrative of a parade 
day will exemplify this more clcarty. 

The chief bashaw, in the plenitude of his 
authority, orders a grand review of the whole 
army at two o'clock. The bashaw with two 
tails that he may have an opportunity of 
vapouring about as the greatest man on the 
field, orders the army to assemble at twelve. 



The kiaya, or colonel as he is called, that is, 
commander of one hundred and twenty men, 
orders his regiment or tribe to collect one 
mile at least from the place of parade at 
eleven. Each captain, or fag-rag as we term 
them, commands his squad to meet at ten at 
least half a mile from the regimental parade ; 
and to close all, the chief of the eunuchs 
orders his infernal concert of fifes, trumpets, 
cymbals, and kettle-drums to assemble at 
ten ! From that moment the city receives no 
quarter. All is noise, hooting, hubbub and 
combustion. Every window, door, crack, 
and loop-hole, from the garret to the cellar, 
is crowded with the fascinating fair of all 
ages, and of all complexions. The mistress 
smiles through the windows of the drawing- 
room ; the chubby chambermaid lolls out of 
the attic casement, and a host of sooty 
wenches roll their white eyes and grin and 
chatter from the cellar door. Every nymph 
seems anxious to yield voluntary that tribute 
which the heroes of their country demand. 
First struts the chief eunuch or drum-major, 
at the head of his sable band, magnificently 
arrayed in tarnished scarlet. Alexander him- 
self could not have spurned the earth more 
superbly. A host of ragged boys shout in 
his train, and inflate the bosom of the warrior 
with tenfold self-complacency. After he has 
rattled his kettle-drums through the town, 
and swelled and swaggered like a turkey- 
cock before all the dingy Floras, and Dianas, 
and Junos, and Didos of his acquaintance, 
he repairs to his place of destination loaded 
with a rich booty of smiles and approbation. 
Next comes the fag-rag, or captain, at the 
head of his mighty band, consisting of one 
lieutenant, one ensign or mute, four sergeants, 
four corporals, one drummer, one flfer, and if 
he has any privates so much the better for 
himself. In marching to the regimental 
parade he is sure to paddle through the street 
or lane which is honoured with the residence 
of his mistress or intended, whom he reso- 
lutely lays under a heavy contribution. Truly 
it is delectable to behold these heroes, as 
they march along, cast side glances at the 
upper windows; to collect the smiles, the 
nods, and the winks, which the enraptured 
fair ones lavish profusely on the magnanimous 
defenders of theii country. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



The fag-rags having conducted their squads 
to their respective regiments, then comes the 
turn of the colonel, a bashaw with no tails, 
for all eyes are now directed to him : and the 
fag-rags, and the eunuchs, and the kettle- 
drummers, having had their hour of notoriety, 
are confounded and lost in the military 
crowd. The colonel sets his whole regiment 
in motion ; and mounted on a mettlesome 
charger, frisks and fidgets, and capers, and 
plunges in front, to the great entertainment 
of the multitude, and the great hazard of 
himself and his neighbours. Having dis- 
played himself, his trappings, his horse, and 
his horsemanship, he at length arrives at the 
place of general rendezvous ; blessed with the 
universal admiration of his country -women. 
I should, perhaps, mention a squadron of 
hardy veterans, most of whom have seen a 
deal of service during the nineteen or twenty 
years of their existence, and who most gorge- 
ously equipped in tight green jackets and 
breeches, trot and amble, and gallop, and 
3camper like little devils through every street, 
and nook, and corner, and poke-hole, of the 
city, to the great dread of all old people and 
sasje matrons with young children. This is 
truly sublime ! this is what I call making 
a mountain out of a mole-hill. Oh, my 
friend, on what a great scale is every thing 
in this country. It is in the style of the 
wandering Arabs of the desert El-tih. Is a 
village to be attacked, or a hamlet to be plun- 
dered, the whole desert for weeks beforehand, 
is in a buzz ; — such marching and counter- 
marching, ere they can concentrate their 
ragged forces ! and the consequence is, that 
before they can bring their troops into action 
the whole enterprise is blown. 

The army being all happily collected on 
the battery, though, perhaps, two hours after 
the time appointed, it is now the turn of the 
bashaw, with two tails, to distinguish him- 
self. Ambition, my friend, is implanted 
alike in every heart, it pervades each bosom 
from the bashaw to the drum-major. This 
is a sage truism, and I trust, therefore, it 
will not be disputed. The bashaw fired with 
ihat thirst for glory, inseparable from the 
noble mind, is anxious to reap a full share of 
the laurels of the day, and bear off his portion 
of female plunder. The drums beat, the fifes 



whistle, the standards wave proudly In the 
air. The signal is given ! thunder roars the 
cannon ! away goes the bashaw, and away 
go the tails ! The review finished, evolutions 
and military manoeuvres are generally dis- 
pensed with for three excellent reasons ;— . 
first, because the army knows very little 
about them ; second, because as the country 
has determined to remain always at peace, 
there is no necessity for them to know any 
thing about them; and third, as it is growing 
late, the bashaw must dispatch, or it will be too 
dark for him to get his quota of the plunder. 
He of course orders the whole army to march ; 
and now, my friend, now comes the tug of 
war, now is the city completely sacked. Open 
fly the battery-gates — forth sallies the bashaw 
with his two tails, surrounded by a shouting 
body guard of boys and negroes ! then pour 
forth his legions, potent as the pismires of the 
desert ! the customary salutations of the coun- 
try commence — those tokens of joy and admi- 
ration, which so much annoyed me on first 
landing : the air is darkened with old hats, 
shoes, and dead cats ; they fly in showers like 
the arrows of the Parthians. The soldiers, no 
ways disheartened, like the intrepid followers 
of Leonidas, march gallantly under their shade. 
On they push, splash-dash, mud or no mud, 
down one lane, up another ; — the martial 
music resounds through every street ; the fab- 
ones throng to their windows, — the soldiers 
look every way but straight forward, " Carry 
arms;" cries the bashaw — " tanta ra-ra,'^ 
brays the trumpet— " rub-a-dub," roars the 
drum — " hurraw," shout the ragamuffins. 
The bashaw smiles with exultation, — every 
fag-rag feels himself a hero — " none but the 
brave deserves the fair!" Head of the im- 
mortal Amrou, on v/hat a great scale is every 
thing in this country ! 

Ay, but you'll say, is not this unfair that 
the officers should share all the sports while 
the privates undergo all the fatigue? Truly 
my friend, I indulged the same idea, and 
pitied from my heart the poor fellows who 
had to drabble through the mud and the 
mire, toiling under ponderous cocked hats, 
which seemed as unwieldy, and cumbrous, as 
the shell which the snail lumbers along on his 
back. I soon found out, however, that they 
have their quantum of notoriety. As soon 



SALMAGUNDI. 



211 



as the army is dismissed, the city swarms 
with little scouting parties, who fire off their 
guns at every corner, to the great delight of 
all the women and children in their vicinity ; 
and woe unto any dog, or pig, or hog, that 
falls in the way of these magnanimous war- 
riors; they are shown no quarter. Every 
gentle swain repairs to pass the evening at 
the feet of his dulcinea, to play " the sol- 
dier tir'd of war's alarms," and to captivate 
her with the glare of his regimentals; ex- 
cepting some ambitious heroes who strut to 
the theatre, flame away in the front boxes, 
and hector every old apple-woman in the 
lobbies. 

Such, my friend, is the gigantic genius of 
this nation, and its faculty of swelling up 
nothings into importance. Our bashaw of 
Tripoli will review his troops, of some thou- 
sands, by an early hour in the morning. 
Here a review of six hundred men is made 
the migthy work of a day ! With us a ba- 
shaw of two tails is never appointed to a 
command of less than ten thousand men ; 
but here we behold every grade, from the 
bashaw down to the drum -major, in a force 
of less than one tenth of the number. By 
the beard of Mahomet, but every thing here 
is indeed on a great scale ! 



BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

I was not a little surprised the other morn- 
ing at a request from Will Wizard that I 
would accompany him that evening to Mrs. 
— — 's ball. The request was simple enough 
in itself, it was only singular as coming from 
Will;— -of all my acquaintance Wizard is 
the least calculated and disposed for the 
society of ladies — not that he dislikes their 
company; on the contrary, like every man 
of pith and marrow, he is a professed ad- 
mirer of the sex ; and had he been bom a 
poet, would undoubtedly have bespattered 
and be-rhymed some hard named goddess, 
until she became as famous as Petrarch's 
Laura, or Waller's Sacharissa; but Will is 
such a confounded bungler at a bow, has so 
many odd bachelor habits, and finds it so 
troublesome to be gallant, that he generally 
prefers smoking his cigar and telling his 
story among cronies of his own gender:— and 



thundering long stories they are, let me tell 
you : set Will once a-going about China or 
Crim Tartary, or the Hottentots, and heaven 
help the poor victim who has to endure his 
prolixity; he might better be tied to the tail 
of a jack-o'lantern. In one word — Will talks 
like a traveller. Being well acquainted with 
his character, I was the more alarmed at his 
inclination to visit a party ; since he has 
often assured me, that he considered it as 
equivalent to being stuck up for three hours 
in a steam-engine. I even wondered how 
he had received an invitation ; — this he soon 
accounted for. It seems Will, on his last 
arrival from Canton, had made a present of 
a case of tea to a lady, for whom he had once 
entertained a sneaking kindness when at a 
grammar-school ; and she in return had in- 
vited him to come and drink some of it ; a 
cheap way enough of paying off little obliga- 
tions. I readily acceded to Will's proposi- 
tion, expecting much entertainment from his 
eccentric remarks ; and as he has been absent 
some few years, I anticipated his surprise at 
the splendour and elegance of a modern rout. 
On calling for Will in the evening, I found 
him full dressed, waiting for me. I contem- 
plated him with absolute dismay. As he 
still retained a spark of regard for the lady 
who once reigned in his affections, he had 
been at unusual pains in decorating his per- 
son, and broke upon my sight arrayed in the 
true style that prevailed among our beaux 
some years ago. His hair was turned up and 
tufted at the top, frizzled out at the ears, a 
profusion of powder puffed over the whole, 
and a long plaited club swung gracefully from 
shoulder to shoulder, describing a pleasing 
semi-circle of powder and pomatum. His 
claret-coloured coat was decorated with a 
profusion of gilt buttons, and reached to his 
calves. His white cassimere small clothes 
were so tight that he seemed to have grown 
up in them; and his ponderous legs, which 
are the thickest part of his body, were beau- 
tifully clothed in sky-blue silk stockings, 
once considered so becoming. But above all 
he prided himself upon his waistcoat of 
China silk, which might almost have served a 
good housewife for a short-gown ; and he 
boasted that the roses and tulips upon it were 
the work of Nang-Fou, daughter of the great 



30 



SALMAGUNDI. 



Chin-Ckm-Fou, who had fallen in love with 
the graces of his person, and sent it to him as 
a parting present ; he assured me she was a 
perfect beauty, with sweet obliquity of eyes, 
and a foot no larger than the thumb of an 
alderman; — he then dilated most copiously 
on his silver sprigged dicky, which he assured 
me was quite the rage among the dashing 
young mandarines of Canton. 

I hold it an ill-natured office to put any 
man out of conceit of himself; so, though I 
would willingly have made a little alteration 
in my friend Wizard's picturesque costume, 
yet I politely complimented him on his rakish 
appearance. 

On entering the room I kept a good look 
out on Will, expecting to see him exhibit 
signs of surprise ; but he is one of those 
knowing fellows who are never surprised at 
any thing, or at least will never acknowledge 
it. He took his stand in the middle of the 
floor, playing with his great steel watch- 
chain ; and looking round on the company, 
the furniture and the pictures, with the air of 
a man " who had seen d — d finer things in 
his time;" and to my utter confusion and 
dismay, I saw him coolly pull out his villan- 
ous old japanned tobacco box, ornamented 
with a bottle, a pipe, and a scurvy motto, 
and help himself to a quid in face of all the 
company. 

I knew it was all in vain to find fault with 
a fellow of Will's socratic turn, who is never 
to be put out of humour with himself; so, 
after he had given his box its prescriptive 
rap, and returned it to his pocket, I drew 
him into a corner where he might observe 
the company without being prominent ob- 
jects ourselves. 

" And pray who is that stylish figure," 
said Will, " who blazes away in red, like a 
volcano, and who seems wrapped in flames 
like a fiery dragon?" — That, cried I, is Miss 
Laurelia Dashaway ; — she is the highest 
flash of the ton — has much whim and more 
eccentricity, and has reduced many an un- 
happy gentleman to stupidity by her charms ; 
you see she holds out the red flag in token 
of " no quarter." " Then keep me safe out 
of the sphere of her attractions," cried Will, 
" I would not e'en come in contact with her 
train, lest it should scorch me like the tail of 



a comet. — But who, I beg of you, is that 
amiable youth who is handing along a young 
lady, and at the same time contemplating his 
sweet person in a mirror as he passes ?" His 
name said I, is Billy Dimple ; — he is a 
universal smiler, and would travel from Dan 
to Beersheba and smile on every body as he 
passed? Dimple is a slave to the ladies — a 
hero at tea-parties, and is famous at the 
pirouet and the pigeon-wing ; a fiddle-stick 
is his idol, and a dance his elysium. " A 
very pretty young gentleman, truly," cried 
Wizard, " he reminds me of a contemporary 
beau at Hayti. You must know that the 
magnanimous Dessalines gave a great ball to 
his court one fine sultry summer's evening ; 
Dessy and I were great cronies; — hand and 
glove : — one of the most condescending great 
men I ever knew — Such a display of black 
and yellow beauties! such a show of Madras 
handkerchiefs, red beads, cocks-tails and 
peacocks feathers ! — it was, as here, who 
should wear the highest top-knot, drag the 
longest tails, or exhibit the greatest variety 
of combs, colours and gew-gaws. In the 
middle of the rout, when all was buzz, slip- 
slop, clack and perfume, who should enter 
but Tucky Squash ! The yellow beauties 
blushed blue, and the black ones blushed as 
red as they could, with pleasure ; and there 
was a universal agitation of fans : every eye 
brightened and whitened to see Tucky; for 
he was the pride of the court, the pink of 
courtesy, the mirror of fashion, the adoration 
of all the sable fair ones of Hayti. Such 
breadth of nose, such exuberance of lip ! his 
shins had the true cucumber curve; — his 
face in dancing shone like a kettle ; and 
provided you kept to windward of him in 
summer, I do not know a sweeter youth in 
all Hayti than Tucky Squash. When he 
laughed, there appeared from ear to ear a che- 
vaux-de-frize of teeth, that rivalled the shark's 
in whiteness ; he could whistle like a north- 
wester; play on a three-stringed fiddle like 
Apollo; and as to dancing, no Long Island 
negro could shuffle you " double-trouble," 
or " hoe corn and dig potatoes," more scien- 
tifically: in short he was a second Lothario. 
And the dusky nymphs of Hayti, one and 
all, declared him a perpetual Adonis. Tucky 
walked about, whistling to himself, without 



SALMAGUNDI. 



3 3. 



regarding any body; and his nonchalance 
was irresistible." 

I found Will had gone neck and heels into 
one of his traveller's stories ; and there is no 
knowing how far he would have run his 
parallel between Billy Dimple and Tucky 
Squash, had not the music struck up from an 
adjoining apartment, and summoned the com- 
pany to the dance. The sound seemed to have 
an inspiring effect on honest Will, and he 
procured the hand of an old acquaintance for 
a country dance. It happened to be the 
fashionable one of " The devil among the 
Tailors," which is so vociferously demanded 
at every ball and assembly : and many a torn 
gown, and many an unfortunate toe did rue 
the dancing of that night ; for Will thun- 
dered down the dance like a coach and six, 
sometimes right, sometimes wrong ; now run- 
ning over half a score of little Frenchmen, 
and now making sad inroads into ladies' cob- 
web muslins and spangled tails. As every 
part of Will's body partook of the exertion, 
he shook from his capacious head such vo- 
lumes of powder, that like pious Eneas on 
the first interview with Queen Dido, he might 
be said to have been enveloped in a cloud. 
Nor was Will's partner an insignificant figure 
in the scene ; she was a young lady of most 
voluminous proportions, that quivered at every 
skip ; and being braced up in the fashionable 
style with whale-bone, stay-tape, and buck- 
ram, looked like an apple-pudding tied in the 
middle ; or, taking her flaming dress into 
consideration, like a bed and bolster rolled up 
in a suit of red curtains. The dance finished. 
— I would gladly have taken Will off, but 
no ; — he was now in one of his happy moods, 
and there was no doing any thing with him. 
He insisted on my introducing him to Miss 
Sophy Sparkle, a young lady unrivalled for 
playful wit and innocent vivacity, and who, 
like a brilliant, adds lustre to the front of 
fashion. I accordingly presented him to her, 
and began a conversation, in which, I thought, 
he might take a share ; but no such thing. 
Will took his stand before her, straddling 
like a Colossus, with his hands in his pockets, 
and an air of the most profound attention ; 
nor did he pretend to open his lips for some 
time, until, upon some lively sally of her's, 
he electrified the whole company with a most 



intolerable burst of laughter. What was to 
be done with such an incorrigible fellow ? — , 
To add to my distress, the first word he spoke 
was to tell Miss Sparkle that something she 
said reminded him of a circumstance that 
happened to him in China ; — and at it he 
went, in the true traveller style — described 
the Chinese mode of eating rice with chop- 
sticks ; — entered into a long eulogium on the 
succulent qualities of boiled bird's nests : 
and I made my escape at the very moment 
when he was on the point of squatting down 
on the floor, to show how the little Chinese 
Joshes sit cross-legged. 



TO THE LADIES. 

FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, KSQ. 

Though jogging down the hill of life, 
Without the comfort of a wife ; 
And though I ne'er a helpmate chose, 
To stock my house and mend my hose ; 
With care my person to adorn, 
And spruce me up on Sunday morn ; — 
Still do I love the gentle sex, 
And still with cares my brain perplex 
To keep the fair ones of the age 
Unsullied as the spotless page ; 
All pure, all simple, all refined, 
The sweetest solace of mankind. 

I hate the loose insidious jest 
To beauty's modest ear addrest, 
And hold that frowns should never fail 
To check each smooth, but fulsome tale : 
But he whose impious pen should dare 
Invade the morals of the fair ; 
To taint that purity divine 
Which should each female heart enshrine ; 
Though soft his vicious strains should swell, 
As those which erst from Gabriel fell, 
Should yet be held aloft to shame, 
And foul dishonour shade his name 

Judge then, my friends, of my surprise 
The ire that kindled in my eyes, 
When I relate, that t'other day 
I went a morning call to pay 
On two young nieces, just come down 
To take the polish of the town : 
By which I mean, no more or less, 
Than a la francaise to undress ; 
To whirl the modest waltz's rounds, 
Taught by Duport for snug ten pounds. 
To thump and thunder through a song, 
Play fortes soft and dolces strong ; 
Exhibit loud piano feats, 
Caught from that crotchet-hero, Meetz i 
To drive the rose bloom from the face, 
And fix the lily in its place ; 
To doff the white, and in its stead 
To bounce about in brazen red. 



?2 



SALMAGUNDI. 



While in the parlour I delay'd. 
Till they their persons had array'd, 
A dapper volume caught my eye, 
That on the window chanc'd to lie : 
A book's a friend — I always choose 
To turn its pages and peruse : — 
It proved those poems known to fame 
For praising every cyprian dame ; — 
The bantlings of a dapper youth, 
Renown'd for gratitude and truth ; 
A little pest, hight Tommy Moore, 
Who hopp'd and skipp'dour country o'er; 
Who sipp'd our tea, and lived on sops 
Revell'd on syllabubs and slops, 
And wheu his brain, of cobweb fine, 
Was fuddled with five drops of wine, 
Would all his puny loves rehearse, 
And many a maid debauch— in verse. 

Surprised to meet in open view, 
A book of such lascivious hue, 
I chid my nieces— but they say, 
•Tis all the passion of the day ; — 
That many a fashionable belle 
Will with enraptured accents dwell 
On the sweet morceau she has found 
In this delicious, curst compound ! 

Soft do the tinkling numbers roll, 
And lure to vice the unthinking soul; 
They tempt by softest sounds away, 
They lead entranced the heart astray : 
And Satan's doctrine sweetly sing, 
As with a seraph's heavenly string. 
Such sounds, so good, old Homer sung, 
Once warbled from the sirens tongue ; — 
Sweet melting tones were heard to pour 
Along Ausonia's sun-gilt shore ;— 
Seductive strains in ether float, 
And every wild deceitful note 
That could the yielding heart assail, 
Were wafted on the breathing gale ; 
And every gentle accent bland 
To tempt Ulysses to their strand. 

And can it be this book so base 
Is laid on every window-case ? 
Oh ! fair ones, if you will profane 
Those breasts where heaven itself should reign ; 
And throw those pure recesses wide, 
Where peace and virtue should reside ; 
To let the holy pile admit 
A guest unhallowed and unfit ; 
Pray, like the frail ones of the night, 
Who hide their wanderings from the light, 
So let your errors secret be, 
And hide, at least, your fault from me 
Seek some bye corner to exploi'e 
The smooth polluted pages o'er : 
There drink the insidious poison in, 
There slily nurse your souls for sin : 
And while that purity you blight 
Which stamps you messengers of light, 
And sap those mounds the gods bestow, 
To keep you spotless here below ; 



Still in compassion to ou. race, 
Who joy, not only in his face, 
But in that more exalted part, 
The secret temple of the heart ; 
Oh ! hide for ever from our view 
The fatal mischief you pursue — 
Let Men your praises still exalt, 
And none but Angels mourn your fault. 



No. 6. 
FRIDAY, MARCH 20, 1807. 

FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

The Cockloft family, of which I have made 
such frequent mention, is of great antiquity, 
if there be any truth in the genealogical tree 
which hangs up in my cousin's library. 
They trace their descent from a celebrated 
Roman Knight, cousin to the progenitor of 
his Majesty of Britain, who left his native 
country on occasion of some disgust ; and 
coming into Wales, became a great favourite 
of Prince Madoc, and accompanied that fa- 
mous argonaut in the voyage which ended in 
the discovery of this continent. Though a 
member of the family, I have sometimes ven- 
tured to doubt the authenticity of this portion 
of their annals, to the great vexation of cousin 
Christopher, who is looked up to as the head 
of our house ; and who, though as orthodox 
as a bishop, would sooner give up the whole 
decalogue than lop off a single limb of the 
family tree. From time immemorial, it has 
been the rule for the Cocklofts to marry one 
of their own name ; and, as they always bred 
like rabbits, the family has increased and 
multiplied like that of Adam and Eve. In 
truth their number is almost incredible ; and 
you can hardly go into any part of the coun- 
try without starting a warren of genuine 
Cocklofts. Every person of the least obser- 
vation, or experience, must have observed, 
that where this practice of marrying cousins 
and second cousins prevails in a family, every 
member, in the course of a few generations, 
becomes queer, humourous, and original ; as 
much distinguished from the common race of 
mongrels as if he was of a different species. 
This has happened in our family, and parti- 
cularly in that branch of it of which Christo- 
pher Cockloft, Esq. is the head. Christopher 
is, in fact, the only married man of the name 
who resides in town ; his family is sraaJ. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



33 



having lost most of his children when young, 
by the excessive care he took to bring them 
up like vegetables. This was one of his first 
whim-whams, and a confounded one it was ; 
as his children might have told, had they not 
fallen victims to his experiment before they 
could talk. He had got, from some quack 
philosopher or other, a notion that there was 
a complete analogy between children and 
plants, and that they ought to be both reared 
alike. Accordingly he sprinkled them every 
morning with water, laid them out in the sun, 
as he did his geraniums ; and, if the season 
was remarkably dry, repeated this wise expe- 
riment three or four times of a morning. 
The consequence was, the poor little souls 
died one after the other, except Jeremy and 
his two sisters ; who, to be sure, are a trio of 
as odd, runty, mummy-looking originals as 
ever Hogarth fancied in his most happy 
moments. Mrs. Cockloft, the larger if not 
the better half of my cousin, often remon- 
strated against this vegetable theory; and 
even brought the parson of the parish, in 
which my cousin's country house is situated, 
to her aid ; but in vain : Christopher per- 
sisted, and attributed the failure of his plan 
to its not having been exactly conformed to. 
As I have mentioned Mrs. Cockloft, I may 
as well say a little more about her while I am 
hi the humour. She is a lady of wonderful 
notability, a warm admirer of shining maho- 
gany, clean hearths, and her husband, who 
she considers the wisest man in the world, 
bating Will Wizard and the parson pf our 
parish ; the last of whom is her oracle on all 
occasions. She goes constantly to church 
every Sunday and Saint's day, and insists 
upon it that no man is entitled to ascend a 
pulpit unless he has been ordained by a 
bishop ; nay, so far does she carry her ortho- 
doxy, that all the arguments in the world 
will never persuade her that a Presbyterian 
or Baptist, or even a Calvinist, has any pos- 
sible chance of going to heaven. Above every 
thing else, however, she abhors Paganism; 
can scarcely refrain from laying violent-hands 
on a Pantheon when she meets with it ; and 
was very nigh going into hysterics, when my 
cousin insisted that one of his boys should be 
christened after our laureate, because the par- 
ispa pf the parish had told her that Pindar was 
D 



the name of a Pagan writer, famous for his 
love of boxing-matches, wrestling, and horse- 
racing. To sum up all her qualifications in 
the shortest possible way, Mrs. Cockloft is, in 
the true sense of the phrase, a good sort of a 
woman ; and I often congratulate my cousfii 
on possessing her. The rest of the family 
consists of Jeremy Cockloft, the younger, 
who has already been mentioned, and the two 
Miss Cocklofts, or rather the young ladies, as 
they have been called by the servants time 
out of mind ; not that they are really young, 
the younger being somewhat on the shady 
side of thirty—but it has ever been the cus- 
tom to call every member of the family young 
under fifty. In, the south-east corner of the 
house, I hold quiet possession of an old- 
fashioned apartment, where myself and my 
elbow-ohair are suffered to amuse ourselves 
undisturbed, save at meal times. This apait- 
ment old Cockloft has facetiously denomi- 
nated Cousin Launce's Paradise ; and the 
good old gentleman has two or three favourite 
jokes about it, which are served up as regu- 
larly as the standing family-dish of beef- 
steaks and onions, which every day maintains 
its station at the foot of the table, in defiance 
of mutton, poultry, or even venison itself. 

Though the family Is apparently small, 
yet, like most old establishments of the kind, 
it does not y&nt for honorary members. It 
is the city rendezvous of the Cocklofts ; and 
we are continually enlivened by the company 
pf half a score of uncles, aunts, and cousins in 
the fortieth remove, from all parts of the 
country, who profess a wonderful regard fcr 
Cousin Christopher, and overwhelm every 
member of his household, down to the coo k 
in the kitchen, with their attentions. "VTe 
have for three weeks past been greeted with 
the .company pf two worthy old spinsters, who 
came down from the country to settle a law- 
suit. They have done little else but retail 
stories of their village neighbours, knit stock- 
ings, and take snufF, all the time they have 
been here ; the whole family are bewildered 
with church-yard tales of sheeted ghosts, 
white horses without heads, and with large 
goggle eyes in their buttocks ; and not one of 
the old servants dare budge an inch after dark 
without a numerous company at his heels. 
My cousin's visitors, however, always return 

3 



M 



SALMAGUNDI. 



his hospitality with due gratitude, and now 
and then remind him of their fraternal regard, 
by a present of a pot of apple sweetmeats, or 
a barrel of sour cider at Christmas. Jeremy 
displays himself to great advantage among his 
country relations, who all think him a pro- 
digy, and often stand astounded, in " gaping 
wonderment," at his natural philosophy. He 
lately frightened a simple old uncle almost 
out of his wits, by giving it as his opinion 
that the earth would one day be scorched to 
ashes by the eccentric gambols of the famous 
comet, so much talked of; and positively 
asserted that this world revolved round the 
sun, and that the moon was certainly inha- 
bited. 

The family mansion bears equal marks of 
antiquity with its inhabitants. As the Cock- 
lofts are remarkable for their attachment to 
every thing that has remained long in the fa- 
mily, they are bigoted towards their old edi- 
fice, and I dare say would sooner have it 
crumble about their ears than abandon it. 
The consequence is, it has been so patched 
■up and repaired, that it has become as full of 
whims and oddities as its tenants ; requires 
to be nursed and humoured like a gouty old 
codger of an alderman ; and reminds one of 
the famous ship in which a certain admiral 
circumnavigated the globe, which was so 
patched and timbered, in order to preserve so 
great a curiosity, that at length not a particle 
of the original remained. Whenever the wind 
blov/s, the old mansion makes a most perilous 
groaning ; and every storm is sure to make a 
day's work for the carpenter, who attends 
upon it as regularly as the family physician. 
This predilection for every thing that has been 
long in the family, shows itself in every par- 
ticular. The domestics are all grown grey in 
the service of our house. We"have a little, 
old, crusty, grey-headed negro, who has lived 
through two or three generations of Hie Cock- 
lofts, and, of course, has become a personage 
of no little importance in the household. He 
calls all the family by their Christian names; 
tells long stories about how he dandled them 
on his knee when they were children ; and is 
a complete Cockloft chronicle for the last 
seventy years. The family carriage was 
made in the last French war, and the old 
horses were most indubitably foaled in Noah's 



ark — resembling marvellously, in gravity of 
demeanour, those sober animals which may be 
seen any day of the year in the streets of Phi- 
ladelphia, walking their snail's pace, a dozen 
in a row, and harmoniously jingling their 
bells. Whim-whams are the inheritance of 
the Cocklofts, and every member of the house- 
hold is a humourist sui generis, from the 
master down to the footman. The very cats 
and dogs are humourists ; and we have a little 
runty scoundrel of a cur, who, whenever the 
church bells ring, will run to the street door, 
turn up his nose in the wind, and howl most 
piteously. Jeremy insists that this is owing 
to a peculiar delicacy in the organization of 
his ears, and supports his position by many 
learned arguments which nobody can under- 
stand ; but I am of opinion that it is a mere 
Cockloft whim-wham, which the little cur 
indulges, being descended from a race of dogs 
Which has flourished in the family ever since 
the time of my grandfather. A propensity 
to save every thing that bears the stamp of 
family antiquity, has accumulated an abun- 
dance of trumpery and rubbish with which 
the house is encumbered, from the cellar to 
the garret ; and every room, and closet, and 
corner, is crammed with three-legged chairs, 
clocks without hands, swords without scab- 
bards, cocked hats, broken candlesticks, and 
looking-glasses, with frames carved into fan- 
tastic shapes of feathered sheep, woolly birds, 
and other animals that have no name except 
in books of heraldry. The ponderous maho- 
gany chairs in the parlour are of such un- 
wieldy proportions, that it is quite a serious 
undertaking to gallant one of them across the 
room ; and sometimes make a most equivocal 
noise when you set down in a hurry : the 
mantle-piece is decorated with little lacquered 
earthen shepherdesses, some of which are 
without toes, and others without noses ; and 
the fire-place is garnished out with Dutch 
tiles, exhibiting a great variety of Scripture 
pieces, which my good old soul of a cousin 
takes infinite delight in explaining. Poor 
Jeremy hates them as he does poison; for 
while a younker, he was obliged by his mo- 
ther to learn the history of a tile every Sun- 
day morning before she would permit him to 
join his playmates : this was a terrible affair 
for Jeremy, who, by the time be had learned 



SALMAGUNDI. 



35 



the last had forgotten the first, and was obliged 
to begin again. He assured me the other 
day, with a round college oath, that if the old 
house stood out till he inherited it, he would _ 
have these tiles taken out, and ground into 
powder, for the perfect hatred he bore them. 

My cousin Christopher enjoys unlimited 
authority in the mansion of his forefathers ; 
he is truly what may be termed a hearty old 
blade — has a florid sunshine countenance, 
and, if you will only praise his wine, and 
laugh at his long stories, himself and his 
house are heartily at your service. The first 
condition is indeed easily complied with, for, 
to tell the truth, his wine is excellent ; but 
his stories, being not of the best, and often 
repeated, are apt to create a disposition to 
yawn, being, in addition to their other quali- 
ties, most unreasonably long. His prolixity 
is the more afflicting to me, since I have all 
his stories by heart ; and when he enters 
upon one, it reminds me of Newark causeway, 
where the traveller sees the end at the distance 
of several miles. To the great misfortune of 
all his acquaintance, cousin Cockloft is blest 
with a most provoking retentive memory, 
and can give day and date, and name and 
age and circumstance, with most unfeeling 
precision. These, however, are but trivial 
foibles, forgotten or remembered only with a 
kind of tender respectful pity, by those who 
know with "rfriat a rich redundant harvest of 
kindness and generosity his heart is stored. 
It would delight you to see with what social 
gladness he welcomes a visitor into his house ; 
and the poorest man that enters his door 
never leaves it without a eordial invitation to 
sit down and drink a glass of wine. By the 
honest farmers round his country seat, he is 
looked up to with love and reverence ; they 
never pass him by without his inquiring after 
the welfare of their families, and receiving a 
cordial shake of his liberal hand. There are 
but two classes of people who are thrown 

out of the reach of his hospitality and 

these are Frenchmen and Democrats. The 
old gentleman considers it treason against the 
majesty of good breeding to speak to any 
visitor with his hat on: but the moment a 
democrat enters his door, he forthwith bids 
his man Pompey bring his hat, puts it on 
his head, and salutes him with an ap- 
D 2 



palling " Well, Sir, what do you want <vith 
me?" 

He has a profound contempt for Frenchmen, 
and firmly believes that they eat nothing but 
frogs and soup-maigre in their own country. 
This unlucky prejudice is partly owing to 
my great aunt Pamela having been, many 
years ago, run away with by a French Count, 
who turned out to be the son of a generation 
of barbers ; and partly to a little vivid spark 
of toryism, which burns in a secret corner of 
his heart. He was a loyal subject of the 
crown ; has hardly yet recovered the shock of 
independence ; and, though he does not care 
to own it, always does honour to his Majesty's 
birth-day, by inviting a few cavaliers, like 
himself, to dinner ; and gracing his table 
with more than ordinary festivity. If by 
chance the revolution is mentioned before 
him, my cousin shakes his head; and you 
may see, if you take good note, a lurking 
smile of contempt in the corner of his eye, 
which marks a decided disapprobation of the 
sound. He once, in the fulness of his heart, 
observed to me that green peas were a month 
later than they were under the old govern- 
ment. But the most eccentric manifestation 
of loyalty he ever gave, was making a voyage 
to Halifax for no other reason under heaven 
but to hear his Majesty prayed for in church, 
as he used to be here formerly. This he never 
could fairly be brought to acknowledge ; but 
it is a certain fact, I assure you. It is not a 
little singular that a person, as much given 
to long story-telling as my cousin, should 
take a liking to another of the same character ; 
but so it is with the old gentleman — his 
prime favourite and companion is Will 
Wizard, who is almost a member of the fa- 
mily, and will sit before the fire, with his 
feet on the massy andirons, and smoke his 
cigar, and screw his phiz, and spin away 
tremendous long stories of his travels, for a 
whole evening, to the great delight of the 
old gentleman and lady, and especially of the 
young ladies, who, like Desdemona, do " se- 
riously incline," and listen to him with innu- 
merable " O dears," " is it possibles," 
" goody graciouses," and look upon him 
as a second Sinbad the sailor. 

The Miss Cocklofts, whose pardon I crave 
for not having particularly introduced them 



30 



SALMAGUNDI. 



tiefore, are a pair of delectable damsels ; who 
tiaving purloined and locked up the family. 
t>ible, pass for just what age they please to 
^alead guilty to. Barbara, the eldest, has 
M)ng since resigned the character of a belle, 
and adopted that staid, sober, demure, snuff- 
taking air, becoming her years and discretion. 
She is a good-natured soul, whom I ne/er 
saw in a passion but once ; and that was oc- 
casioned by seeing an old favourite beau of 
her's kiss the hand of a pretty blooming girl ; 
and, in truth, she only got angry because, as 
she very properly said, it was spoiling the 
child. Her sister Margery, or Maggie, as 
she is familiarly termed, seemed disposed to 
maintain her post as a belle, until a few 
months since ; when accidentally hearing a 
gentleman observe that she broke very fast, 
she suddenly left off going to the assembly, 
took a cat into high favour, and began to rail 
at the forward pertness of young misses. 
From that moment I set her down for an old 
maid ; and so she is, " by the hand of my 
body." The young ladies are still visited 
by some half dozen of veteran beaux, who 
grew und flourished in the haut ton when 
the Miss Cocklofts were quite children, but 
have been brushed rather rudely by the hand 
of time, who, to say the truth, can do almost 
any thing but make people young. They are, 
notwithstanding, still warm candidates for 
female favour ; look venerably tender, and 
repeat over and over the same honeyed 
speeches and sugared sentiments to the little 
belles that they poured so profusely into the 
ears of their mothers. I beg leave here to 
give notice, that by this sketch, I mean 
no reflection on old bachelors : on the con- 
trary I hold that next to a fine lady, the ne 
plus ultra, an old bachelor is the most charm- 
ing being upon earth ; in as much as by living 
in " single blessedness," he of course does 
just as he pleases ; and if he has any genius, 
must acquire a plentiful stock of whims, and 
oddities, and whalebone habits ; without 
which I esteem a man to be mere beef with- 
out mustard, good for nothing at all, but to 
run on errands for ladies, take boxes at the 
theatre, and act the part of a screen at tea- 
parties, or a walking-stick in the streets. I 
merely speak of those old boys who infest 
public walks, pounce upon ladies from every 



corner of the street, and worry and frisk and . 
amble and caper before, behind, and round 
about the fashionable belles, like old ponies 
in a pasture, striving to supply the absence 
of youthful whim and hilarity, by grimaces 
and grins, and artificial vivacity. I have 
sometimes seen one of these " reverend 
youths" endeavouring to elevate his wintry 
passions into something like love, by basking 
in the sunshine of beauty ; and it did remind 
me of an old moth attempting to fly through 
a pane of glass towards a light without ever 
approaching near enough to warm itself, or 
scorch its wings. 

Never, I firmly believe, did there exist a 
family that went more by tangents than the 
Cocklofts — Every thing is governed by whim; 
and if one member starts a new freak, away 
all the rest follow on like wild geese in a 
string. As the family, the servants, the 
horses, cats and dogs, have all grown old 
together, they have accommodated themselves 
to each others habits completely ; and though 
every body of them is full of odd points, 
angles, rhomboids, and ins and outs, yet 
some how or other, they harmonize together 
like so many straight lines ; and it is truly a 
grateful and refreshing sight to see them 
agree so well. Should one, however, get out 
of tune, it is like a cracked fiddle, the whole 
concert is ajar; you perceive a cloud over 
every brow in the house, and even the old 
chairs seem to creak affetuoso. If my cousin, 
as he is rather apt to do, betray any symp- 
toms of vexation or uneasiness, no matter 
about what, he is worried to death with in- 
quiries, which answer no other end but to 
demonstrate the good will of the inquirer, 
and put him in a passion ; for every body 
knows how provoking it is to be cut short in 
a fit of the blues, by an impertinent question 
about " what is the matter ?" when a man 
can't tell himself. I remember a few months 
ago the old gentleman came home in quite a 
squall ; kicked poor Caesar, the mastiff, out 
of his way, as he came through the hall; 
threw his hat on the table with most violent 
emphasis, and pulling out his box, took three 
huge pinches of snuff, and threw a fourth 
into the cat's eyes as he sat purring his 
astonishment by the fire-side. This was 
enough to set the body politic going ; Mrs.; 



SALMAtfUNDL 



37 



Cockloft began " my dearing.!' it as fast as 
tongue could move; the young ladies took 
each a stand at an elbow of his chair ; Jeremy 
marshalled in rear ; the servants came tumb- 
ling in; the mastiff put up an inquiring 
nose; and even grimalkin, after he had 
cleansed his whiskers and finished sneezing, 
discovered indubitable signs of sympathy. 
After the most affectionate inquiries on all 
sides, it turned out that my cousin, in cross- 
ing the street, had got his silk stockings 
bespattered with mud by a coach, which it 
seems belonged to a dashing gentleman who 
had formerly supplied the family with hot 
rolls and muffins ! Mrs. Cockloft thereupon 
turned up her eyes, and the young ladies 
their noses ; and it would have edified a 
whole congregation to hear the conversation 
which took place concerning the insolence of 
upstarts, and the vulgarity of would-be gen- 
tlemen and ladies, who strive to emerge from 
low life by dashing about in carriages to pay 
a visit two doors off; giving parties to people 
who laugh at them and cutting all their old 
friends.* 



THEATRICS. 

BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

I went a few evenings since to the theatre 
accompanied by my friend Snivers, the Cock- 
ney, who is a man deeply read in the history 
of Cinderella, Valentine and Crson, Blue 
Beard, and all those recondite works so ne- 
cessary to enable a man to understand the 
modern drama. Snivers is one of those into- 
lerable fellows who will never be pleased 
with any thing until he has turned and 
twisted it divers ways, to see if it corresponds 
with his notions of congruity; and as he is 
none of the quickest in his ratiocinations, 
he will sometimes come out with his appro- 
bation, when every body else has forgotten 
the cause which excited it. Snivers is, more- 
over, a great critic, for he finds fault with 
every thing ; this being what I understand 

* The freedom apparent in this sketch of the 
Cocklofts, renders it extremely improhable that the 
authors of Salmagundi, contrary to their repeated 
declaration, had " individuals and not the species" 
in their view ; yet common rumour has asserted that 
it was designed to represent the Livingstons of iNew 
York — a family of long standing and great respecta- 
bility .-E»IT. 

D 3 



by modern criticism. He, however, is pleased 
to acknowledge that our theatre is not so des- 
picable, all things considered ; and really 
thinks Cooper one of our best actors. The 
play was Othello, and, to speak my mind 
freely, I think I have seen it performed much 
worse in my time. The actors, I firmly be- 
lieve, did their best; and whenever this is 
the case no man has a right to find fault with 
them in my opinion. Little Rutherford, 
the Roscius of the Philadelphia theatre, 
looked as big as possible; and what he 
wanted in size, he made up in frowning. I 
like frowning in tragedy ; and if a man but 
keeps his forehead in proper wrinkle, talks 
big, and takes long strides on the stage, I 
always set him down as a great tragedian ; 
and so does my friend Snivers. 

Before the first act was over, Snivers be- 
gan to flourish his critical wooden sword like 
a harlequin. He first found fault with 
Cooper for not having made himself as black 
as a negro ; "for," said he, "that Othello 
was an arrant black, appears from several ex- 
pressions of the play ; as, for instance, ' thick 
lips,' ' sooty bosom,' and a variety of others. 
I am inclined to think," continued he, " that 
Othello was an Egyptian by birth, from the 
circumstance of the handkerchief given to his 
mother by a native of that country ; and, if 
so, he certainly was as black as my hat ; for 
Herodotus has told us, that the Egyptians 
had flat noses and frizzled hair ; a clear proof 
that they were all negroes." He did not con- 
fine his strictures to this single error of the 
actor, but went on to run him down in toto. 
In this he was seconded by a red-hot Phila- 
delphian, who proved, by a string of most 
eloquent logical puns, that Fennel was un- 
questionably in every respect a better actor 
than Cooper. I knew it was vain to contend 
with him, since I recollected a most obstinate 
trial of skill these two great Roscii had last 
spring in Philadelphia. Cooper brandished 
his blood-stained dagger at the theatre — Fen- 
nel flourished his snuff-box and shook his 
wig at the Lyceum, and the unfortunate Phi- 
ladelphians were a long time at a loss to de- 
cide which deserved the palm. The literati 
were inclined to give it to Cooper, because 
his name was the most fruitful in puns ; but 
then, on the other side, it was contended that 



?>n 



SALMAGUNDI* 



Fennel was the best Greek scholar. Scarcely 
was the town of Strasburgh in a greater hub- 
bub about the courteous stranger's nose ; and 
it was well that the doctors of the university 
did not get into the dispute, else it might have 
become a battle of folios. At length, after 
much excellent argument had been expended 
on both sides, recourse was had to Cocker's 
Arithmetic and a carpenter's rule ; the rival 
candidates were both measured by one of their 
most steady-handed critics, and by the most 
exact measurement it was proved that Mr. 
Fennel was the greater actor by three inches 
and a quarter. Since this demonstration of 
his inferiority, Cooper has never been able to 
hold up his head in Philadelphia. 

In order to change a conversation in which 
my favourite suffered so much, I made some 
inquiries of the Philadelphian concerning the 
two heroes of his theatre, Wood and Cain ; 
but I had scarcely mentioned their names, 
when, whack ! he threw a whole handful of 
puns in my face ; 'twas like a bowl of cold 
water. I turned on my heel, had recourse to 
my tobacco-box, and said no more about 
Wood and Cain ; nor will I ever more, if I 
can help it, mention their names in the pre- 
sence of a Philadelphian. Would that they 
could leave off punning ! for Hove every soul 
of them, with a cordial affection, warm as their 
own generous hearts, and boundless as their 
hospitality. 

During the performance, I kept an eye on 
the countenance of my friend, the cockney— 
because, having come all the way from Eng- 
land, and having seen Kemble once, on a 
visit which he made from the button-manu- 
factory to Lunnun, I thought his phiz might 
serve as a kind of thermometer to direct my 
manifestations of applause or disapprobation. 
I might as well have looked at the backside 
of his head ; for I could not, with all my 
peering, perceive by his features that he was 
pleased with any thing — except himself. His 
hat was twitched a little on one side, as much 
as to say, " demme, I'm your sorts :" he was 
sucking the end of a little stick ; he was 
" gemman " from head to foot ; but as to his 
face, there was no more expression in it than 
in the face of a Chinese lady on a tea-cup. 
On Cooper's giving one of his gunpowder 
explosions of passion I exclaimed, " fine, 



very fine !" " Pardon me," said my friend 
Snivers, " this is damnable ! — the gesture, 
my dear sir, only look at the gesture ! how 
horrible ! Do you not observe that the actor 
slaps his forehead, whereas, the passion not 
having arrived at the proper height, he should 
only have slapped his — pocket-flap ? — This 
figure of rhetoric is a most important stage 
trick, and the proper management of it is 
what peculiarly distinguishes the great actor 
from the mere plodding mechanical buffoon. 
Different degrees of passion require different 
slaps, which we critics have reduced to a per- 
fect manual, improving upon the principle 
adopted by Frederic of Prussia, by deciding 
that an actor, like a soldier, is a mere machine ; 
as thus — the actor, for a minor burst of pas- 
sion, merely slaps his pocket-hole ; good !— 
for a major burst, he slaps his breast ; very 
good ! — but for a burst maximus, he whacks 
away at his forehead, like a brave fellow ; 
this is excellent ! — nothing can be finer than 
an exit, slapping the forehead from one end 
of the stage to the other." "Except," re- 
plied I, " one of those slaps on the breast, 
which I have sometimes admired in some of 
our fat heroes and heroines, which make their 
whole body shake and quiver like a pyramid 
of jelly." 

The Philadelphian had listened to this con- 
versation with profound attention, and ap- 
peared delighted with Snivers' mechanical 
strictures ; 'twas natural enough in a man 
who chose an actor as he would a grenadier. 
He took the opportunity of a pause to enter 
into a long conversation with my friend ; and 
was receiving a prodigious fund of informa- 
tion concerning the true mode of emphasising 
conjunctions, shifting scenes, snuffing can- 
dles, and making thunder and lightning, bet- 
ter than you can get every day from the sky, 
as practised at the royal theatres ; when, as 
ill luck would have it, they happened to run 
their heads full butt against a new reading. 
Now this was " a stumper," as our old friend 
Paddle would say; for the Philadelphians 
are as inveterate new-reading hunters as the 
cockneys, and, for aught I know, as well 
skilled in finding them out. The Philadel- 
phian thereupon met the cockney on his own 
ground ; and at it they went, like two invete- 
rate curs, at a bone. Snivers quoted Theo- 



SALMAGUNDI. 



m 



bald, Hanmer, and a host of learned com- 
mentators, who have pinned themselves on 
the sleeve of Shakspeare's immortality, and 
made the old bard, like General Washington, 
in General Washington's life, a most dimi- 
nutive figure in his own book ; his opponent 
chose Johnson for his bottle-holder, and thun- 
dered him forward like an elephant to bear 
down the ranks of the enemy. I was not 
long in discovering that these two precious 
judges had got hold of that unlucky passage 
of Shakspeare, which, like a straw, has tickled 
and puzzled and confounded many a somni- 
ferous buzzard of past and present time. It 
was the celebrated wish of Desdemona, that 
heaven had made her such a man as Othello. 
Snivers insisted, that " the gentle Desdemona" 
merely wished for such a man for a husband, 
which in all conscience was a modest wish 
enough, and very natural in a young lady who 
might possibly have had a predilection for 
flat noses ; like a certain philosophical great 
man of our day.* The Philadelphian con- 
tended with all the vehemence of a member 
of Congress, moving the house to have 
" whereas," or " also," or " nevertheless," 
struck out of a bill, that the young lady 
wished heaven had made her a man instead of 
a woman, in order that she might have an 
opportunity of seeing the " anthropophagi, 
and the men whose heads do grow beneath 
their shoulders;" which was a very natural 
wish, considering the curiosity of the sex. 
On being referred to, I incontinently decided 
in favour of the honourable member who 
spoke last ; inasmuch as I think it was a very 
foolish, and therefore very natural, wish for 
a young lady to make before a man she wished 
to marry. It was, moreover, an indication 
of the violent inclination she felt to wear the 
breeches, which was afterwards, in all proba- 
bility, gratified, if we may judge from the 
title of " our Captain's Captain," given her 
by Cassio, a phrase which, in my opinion, in- 
dicates that Othello was, at that time, most 
ignominiously hen-pecked. I believe my ar- 
guments staggered Snivers himself, for he 
looked confoundedly queer, and said not an- 
other word on the subject. 

A little while after, at it he went again 

* A llu-ling to a penchant winch Mr. Jefferson was 
eaidHo eiiteitahi for an African beauty. — Edit. 



on another tack; and began to find fault 
with Cooper's manner of dying ; " it was 
not natural," he said, " for it had lately been 
demonstrated, by a learned doctor of physic, 
that when a man is mortally stabbed, he 
ought to take a flying leap of at least five feet, 
and drop down c dead as a salmon in a fish- 
monger's basket.' Whenever a man, in the 
predicament above mentioned, departed from 
this fundamental rule, by falling flat down, 
like a log, and rolling about for two or three 
minutes, making speeches all the time, the 
said learned doctor maintained that it was 
owing to the waywardness of the human mind, 
which delighted in flying in the face of na- 
ture, and dying in defiance of all her esta- 
blished rules." I replied, " for my part, I held 
that every man had a right of dying in what- 
ever position he pleased ; and that the mode 
of doing it depended altogether on the pecu- 
liar character of the person going to die. A 
Persian could not die in peace unless he had his 
face turned to the east ; a Mahometan would 
always choose to have his towards Mecca ; a 
Frenchman might prefer this mode of throw- 
ing a somerset ; but Mynheer Van Brumble- 
bottom, the Roscius of Rotterdam, always 
chose to thunder down on his seat of honour 
whenever he received a mortal wound. Being 
a man of ponderous dimensions, this had a 
most electrifying effect, for the whole theatre 
" shook like Olympus at the nod of Jove." 
The Philadelphian was immediately inspired 
with a pun, and swore that Mynheer must be 
great in a dying scene, since he knew how to 
make the most of his latter end. 

It is the inveterate cry of stage-critics, that 
an actor does not perform the character natu- 
rally, if by chance he happens not to die ex- 
actly as they would have him. I think the 
exhibition of a play at Pekin would suit them 
exactly ; and I wish, with all my heart, they 
would go there and see one : nature is there 
imitated with the most scrupulous exactness 
in every trifling particular. Here an unhappy 
lady or gentleman, who happens unluckily to 
be poisoned or stabbed, is left on the stage to 
writhe and groan, and make faces at the 
audience, until the poet pleases they should 
die ; while the honest folks of the dramatis 
persona, bless their hearts ! all crowd round 
and yielcl most potent assistanee, by crying 



40 



SALMAGUNDL 



and lamenting most vociferously ! The audi- 
ence, tender souls, pull out their white pocket, 
handkerchiefs, wipe their eyes, blow their 
noses, and sWear it is natural as life, while 
the poor actor is left to die without common 
Christian comfort. In China, on the contrary, 
the first thing they do is to run for the doctor 
and tchoouc^ or notary. The audience are 
entertained throughout the fifth act with a 
learned consultation of physicians, and if the 
patient must die, he does it secundum, artem^ 
and always is allowed time to make his will. 
The celebrated Chow-Chow was the com- 
pletest hand I ever saw at killing himself; 
he always carried under his robe a bladder of 
bull's blood, which, when he gave the mortal 
Stab, spirted out, to the infinite delight of 
the audience. Not that the ladies of China 
are more fond of the sight of blood than those 
of our own country; on the contrary, they 
are remarkably sensitive in this particular ; 
and we are told by the great Linkum Fidelius, 
that the beautiful Ninny Consequa, one of 
the ladies of the Emperor's seraglio, once 
fainted away on seeing a favourite slave's nose 
bleed ; since which time refinement has been 
carried to such a pitch, that a buskined hero 
is not allowed to run himself through the body 
in the face of the audience. The immortal 
Chow-Chow, in conformity to this absurd 
prejudice, whenever he plays the part of 
Othello, which is reckoned his masterpiece, 
always keeps a bold front, stabs himself slily 
behind, and is dead before any body suspects 
that he has given the mortal blow. 

P. S. — Just as this was going to press, I 
was informed by Evergreen that Othello had 
not been performed here the Lord knows 
when : — no matter ; I am not the first that 
has criticised a play without seeing it ; and 
this critique will answer for the last perform- 
ance, if that was a dozen years ago. 



No. 7- 

SATURDAY, APRIL 4, 1807 

LETTER 

FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB RELI-KHAN 

To Asem Hacchem, principal slave-driver to 

his Highness the Bashaw of Tripoli. 
I promised in a former letter, good Asem, 
that I would furnish thee with a few hints 



respecting the nature of the government by 
which I am held in durance. Though my 
inquiries for that purpose have been indus- 
trious, yet I am not perfectly satisfied with 
their results ; for thou mayest easily imagine 
that the vision of a captive is overshadowed 
by the mists of illusion and prejudice, and 
the horizon of his speculations must be limited 
indeed. I find that the people of this coun* 
try are strangely at a loss to determine the 
nature and proper character of their go- 
vernment : even their dervises are extremely 
in the dark as to this particular, and are 
continually indulging in the most prepos- 
terous disquisitions on the subject ! Some 
have insisted that it savours of an aristocracy ; 
others maintain that it is a pure democracy ; 
and a third set of theorists declare absolutely; 
that it is nothing more nor less than a mobo- 
cracy. The latter, I must confess, though 
still wide in error, have come nearest to the 
truth. You, of course, must understand the 
meaning of these different words, as they are 
derived from the ancient Greek language, and 
bespeak loudly the verbal poverty of these 
poor infidels, who cannot utter a learned 
phrase without laying the dead languages 
under contribution. A man, my dear Asem, 
who talks good sense in his native tongue, is 
held in tolerable estimation in this country ; 
but a fool, who clothes his feeble ideas in a 
foreign or antique garb, is bowed down to as 
a literary prodigy. While I conversed with 
these people in plain English, I was but little 
attended to ; but the moment I prosed away 
in Greek, every one looked up to me with 
veneration as an oracle. 

Although the dervises differ widely in the 
particulars abovementioned, yet they all 
agree in terming their government one of the 
most pacific in the known world. I cannot 
help pitying their ignorance, and smiling, at 
times, to see into what ridiculous errors those 
nations will - wander who are unenlightened 
by the precepts of Mahomet, our divine 
prophet, and uninstructed by the five-hundred 
and forty-nine books of wisdom of the im- 
mortal Ibrahim Hassan al Fusti. To call 
this nation pacific ! Most preposterous ! It 
reminds me of the title assumed by the 
Sheik of that murderous tribe of wild Arabs, 
that desolate the valleys of Belsaden, who 



SALMAGUNDI* 



41 



styles himself " Star of Courtesy — Beam of 
the Mercy Seat !" 

The simple truth of the matter is, that 
these people are totally ignorant of their own 
true character ; for, accoiding to the best of 
my observation, they are the most warlike, 
and I must say, the most savage nation that 
I have as yet discovered among all fee bar- 
barians. They are not only at war, in their 
own way, with almost every nation on earth, 
but they are at the same time engaged in the 
most complicated knot of civil wars that ever 
infested any poor unhappy country on which 
Alia has denounced his malediction I 

To let thee at once into a secret, which is 
unknown to these people themselves, their 
government is a pure, unadulterated logo- 
cracy J or government of words. The whole 
nation does every thing viva voce^ or by word 
of mouth ; and in this manner is one of the 
most military nations in existence. — Every 
man who has what is here called the gift of 
the gab, that is a plentiful stock of verbo- 
sity, becomes a soldier outright, and is for 
ever in a militant state. The country is en- 
tirely defended v'% et lingua — that is to say, 
by force of tongues. The account which I 
lately wrote to our friend the snorer, respect- 
ing the immense army of six hundred men, 
makes nothing against this observation ; that 
formidable body being kept up, as I have al- 
ready observed, only to amuse their fair coun- 
trywomen by their splendid appearance and 
nodding plumes, and are, by way of distinc- 
tion, denominated the " defenders of the fair." 
In a logocracy, thou well knowest there is 
little or no occasion for fire-arms, or any 
such destructive weapons. Every offensive 
or defensive measure is enforced by wordy 
battle and paper war ; — he who has the longest 
tongue or readiest quill is sure to gain the 
victory ; will carry horror, abuse, and ink- 
shed, into the very trenches of the enemy, and, 
without mercy or remorse, put men, women, 

and children, to the point of the pen ! 

There is still preserved in this country 
some remains of that Gothic spirit of knight 
errantry which so much annoyed the faithful 
in the middle ages of the Hegira. As, not- 
withstanding their martial disposition, they 
are a people much given to commerce and 
agriculture,. and must necessarily, at certain 



seasons be engaged in these employments, 
they have accommodated themselves by ap- 
pointing knights, or constant Warriors, inces- 
sant brawlers, similar to those who, in former 
ages, swore eternal enmity to the followers of 
our divine Prophet. These knights, deno* 
mmated editors, or slang-whangers, are ap- 
pointed in every town, village, and district, to 
carry on both foreign and eternal warfare, and 
may be said to keep up a constant firing " in 
words." O ! my friend, could you but witness 
the enormities sometimes committed by these 
tremendous slang-whangers, your very turban 
would rise with horror and astonishment. I 
have seen them extend their ravages even into 
the kitchens of their opponents, and annihi- 
late the very cook with a blast; and I do 
assure thee, I beheld one of these warriors 
attack a most venerable Bashaw, and at one 
stroke of his pen lay him open from the 
waistband of his breeches to his chin ! 

There has been a civil wai carrying on 
with great violence for some time past, in 
consequence of a conspiracy, among the higher 
classes, to dethrone his Highness the present 
Bashaw, and place another in his stead. I 
was mistaken when I formerly asserted to 
thee that this disaffection arose from his 
wearing red breeches. It is true the nation 
have long held that colour in great detesta- 
tion, in consequence of a dispute they had 
3ome twenty years since with the barbarians 
of the British Islands. The colour, how- 
ever, is again rising into favour, as the ladies 
have transferred it to their heads from the 
Bashaw's body. The true reason, I am ttold, 
is, that the Bashaw absolutely refuses to be- 
lieve in the Deluge, and in the story of 
Balaam's ass ; maintaining that this animal 
was never yet permitted to talk except in a 
genuine logocracy, where, it is true, his voice 
may often be heard, and is listened to with 
re^rence, as " the voice of the sovereign 
people." Nay, so far did he carry his obsti- 
nacy, that he absolutely invited a professed 
Antediluvian from the Gallic Empire, who 
illuminated the whole country with his prin- 
ciples — and his nose.* This was enough to 
set the nation in a blaze ; every slang- whanger 

* A gentle reproof directed against Mr. Jefferson 
for the indiscretion he committed in inviting Paine 
to America, and openly taking him under his protec- 
tion.— Ed 



42 



SALMAGUNDI. 



resorted to his tongue or his pen ; and fox 
seven years have they carried on a most in- 
human war, in which volumes of words have 
been expended, oceans of ink have been shed ; 
nor has any mercy been shown to age, sex, 
or condition. Every day have these siang- 
whangers made furious attacks on each other, 
and upon their respective adherents — dis- 
charging their heavy artillery, consisting 
of large sheets, loaded with scoundrel ! vil- 
lain ! liar ! rascal ! numskull ! nincompoop ! 
dunderhead! wiseacre! blockhead! jackass! 
— and I do swear, by my beard, though I 
know thou wilt scarcely credit me, that in 
some of these skirmishes the Grand Bashaw 
himself has been wofully pelted ! yea, most 
igncminously pelted ! — and yet have these 
talking desperadoes escaped without the 
bastinado ! 

Every now and then a slang-whanger, who 
has a longer head, or rather a longer tongue 
than the rest, will elevate his piece and dis- 
charge a shot quite across the ocean, levelled 
at the head of the Emperor of France, the 
King of England, or, wouldst thou believe it, 
O ! Asem, even at his sublime Highness the 
Bashaw of Tripoli! These long pieces are 
loaded with single ball, or langrage, as 
tyrant! usurper! robber! tiger! monster! 
and thou mayest well suppose they occasion 
great distress and dismay in the camps of the 
enemy, and are marvellously annoying to the 
crowned heads at which they are directed. 
The slang-whanger, though perhaps the mere 
champion of a village, having fired off his 
shot, struts about with great self-congratula- 
tion, chuckling at the prodigious bustle he 
must have occasioned, and seems to ask of 
every stranger, " Well, Sir, what do they 
think of me in Europe."* This is sufficient 

* The sage Mustapha, when he wrote the above 
paragraph, had probably in his eye the following 
anecdote — related either by Linfcum Fidelius, or Jo- 
sephus Milerius, vulgarly called Joe Miller, of faceti- 
ous memory :— The captain of a slave-vessel, on his 
fivst landing on the coast of Guinea, observed, under 
a palm tree, a negro chief, sitting most majestically 
on a stump, while two women, with wooden spoons, 
were administering his favourite pottage of boiled 
rice, which, as his Imperial Majesty was a littte 
greedy, would let part of it escape the place of des- 
tination and run down his chin : the watchful attend- 
ants were particularly careful to intercept these 
scape-grace particles, and return them to their pro- 



to show you the manner in which these 
bloody, or rather windy fellows fight : it is 
the only mode allowable in a logocracy or go- 
vernment of words. I would also observe that 
the civil wars have a thousand ramifications. 
While the fury of the battle rages in the 
metropolis, every little town and village has 
a distinct broil, growing like excrescences out 
of the grand national altercation, or rather 
agitating within it, like those complicated 
pieces of mechanism where there is a ' c wheel 
within a wheel." 

But in nothing is the verbose nature of 
this government more evident than in its 
grand national Divan, or Congress, where the 
laws are framed. This is a blustering, windy 
assembly, where every thing is carried by 
noise, tumult, and debate : for thou must 
know, that the members of this assembly do 
not meet together to find wisdom in the 
multitude of counsellors, but to wrangle, call 
each other hard names, and hear themselves 
talk. When the Congress opens, the Bashaw 
first sends them a long message, i. e. a huge 
mass of words — vox et preterea nihil, all 
meaning nothing ; because it only tells them 
what they perfectly know already. Then the 
whole assembly are thrown into a ferment, 
and have a long talk about the quantity of 
words that are to be returned in answer to 
this message ; and here arises many disputes 
about the correction and alteration of " if so 
be's," and " how so ever's." A month, 
perhaps, is spent in thus determining the 
precise number of words, the answer shall 
contain; and then another, most probably, 
in concluding whether it shall be carried to 
the Bashaw on foot, on horseback, or in 
coaches. Having settled this weighty matter, 
they next fall to work upon the message it- 
self, and hold as much chattering over it as 
so many magpies over an addled egg. This 
done, they divide the message into small por- 
tions, and deliver them into the hands of 
little juntos of talkers, called committees : 
these juntos have each a world of talking 

per port of entry. As the captain approached, in 
order to admire this curious exhibition of royalty, 
the great chief clapped his hands to his sides, and 
saluted his visitor with the following pompons ques- 
tion : — " Well, Sir! what do they say of me m 
England ?"— Note by W. Wizard, Esq. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



43 



about their respective paragraphs, and return 
the results to the Grand Divan, which forth- 
with falls to and re-talks the matter over 
more earnestly than ever. Now after all, it 
is an even chance that the subject of this pro- 
digious arguing, quarrelling, and talking, is 
an affair of no importance, and ends entirely 
in smoke. May it not then be said, the 
whole nation have been talking to no purpose ? 
The people, in fact, seem to be somewhat 
conscious of this propensity to talk, by which 
they are characterized, and have a favourite 
proverb on the subject, viz. " all talk and no 
cider :" this is particularly applied when 
their Congress, or assembly of all the sage 
chatterers of the nation, have chattered 
through a whole session, in a time of great 
peril and momentous event, and have done 
nothing but exhibit the length of their tongues 
and the emptiness of their heads. This has 
been the case more than once, my friend ; 
and to let thee into the secret, I have been 
told in confidence, that there have been ab- 
solutely several old women smuggled into 
Congress from different parts of the Empire, 
who, having once got on the breeches, as 
thou mayest well imagine, have taken the 
lead in debate, and overwhelmed the whole 
assembly with their garrulity ! For my part, 
as times gO, I do not see why old women 
should not be as eligible to public councils 
as old men who possess their dispositions ; 
they certainly are eminently possessed of the 
qualifications requisite to govern in a logo- 
cracy. 

Nothing, as I have repeatedly insisted, 
can be done in this country without talking ; 
but they take so long to talk over a measure, 
that by the time they have determined upon 
adopting it, the period has elapsed which 
was proper for carrying it into effect. Un- 
happy nation ! thus torn to pieces by intes- 
tine talks ! never, I fear, will it be restored 
to tranquillity and silence. Words are but 
breath ; breath is but air ; and air put into 
motion is nothing but wind. This vast 
Empire, therefore, may be compared to 
nothing more nor less than a mighty wind- 
mill, and the orators, and the chatterers, and 
the slang -whangers, are the breezes that put 
it in motion : unluckily, however, they are 
apt to blow different ways ; and their blasts 



counteracting each other, the mill is per- 
plexed, the wheels stand still, the grist is 
unground, and the miller and his family 
starved. 

Every thing partakes of the windy nature 
of the government. In case of any domestic 
grievance, or an insult from a foreign foe, the 
people are all in a buzz; — town-meetings 
are immediately held, where the quidnuncs 
of the city repair, each like an Atlas with the 
cares of the whole nation upon his shoulders, 
each resolutely bent upon saving his country, 
and each swelling and strutting like a turkey- 
cock, puffed up with words, and wind, and 
nonsense. — After bustling, and buzzing, and 
bawling for some time, and after each man 
has shown himself to be indubitably the 
greatest personage in the meeting, they pass 
a string of resolutions, %. e. words which were 
previously made for the purpose. These 
resolutions are whimsically denominated the 
sense of the meeting, and are sent off for the 
instruction of the reigning Bashaw, who re- 
ceives them graciously, puts them into his red 
breeches pocket, forgets to read them, and so 
the matter ends. 

As to his Highness the present Bashaw, 
who is at the very top of the logocracy, never 
was a dignitary better qualified for his sta- 
tion. He is a man of superlative ventosity, 
and comparable to nothing but a huge bladder 
of wind. He talks of vanquishing all oppo- 
sition by the force of reason and philosophy ; 
throws his gauntlet at all the nations of the 
earth, and defies them to meet him — on the 
field of argument ! — Is the national dignity 
insulted, a case in which his highness of 
Tripoli would immediately call forth his 
forces ; — the bashaw of America — utters a 
speech. Does a foreign invader molest the 
commerce in the very mouth of the harbour 
— an insult which would induce his highness 
of Tripoli to order out his fleets : — his high- 
ness of America — -utters a speech. Are the 
free citizens of America dragged from on 
board the vessels of their country, and forcibly 
detained in the war ships of another power ; 
— his highness — utters a speech. Is a peace- 
able citizen killed by the marauders of a fo- 
reign power, on the very shores of his coun- 
try ; — his highness — utters a speech. Does an 
alarming; hibiirrcction break out in a distant 



44 



SALMAGUNDI. 



part of the empire ;— .his highness — utters a 
speech ! — Nay, more, for here he shows his 
" energies ;" — he most intrepidly despatches 
a courier on horseback, and orders him to 
ride one hundred and twenty miles a-day, 
with a most formidable army of proclama- 
tions, i. e. a collection of words, packed up 
in his saddle-bags. He is instructed to show 
no favour nor affection ; but to charge the 
thickest ranks of the enemy, and to speechify 
and batter by words the conspiracy and the 
conspirators out of existence. Heavens, my 
friend, what a deal of blustering is here ! It 
reminds me of a dunghill cock in a farm -yard, 
who, having accidentally in his scratching^ 
found a worm, immediately begins a most 
vociferous cackling—calls around him his 
hen-hearted companions, who run chattering 
from all quarters to gobble up the poor little 
worm that happened to turn under his eye. 
Oh, Asem, Asem ! on what a prodigious 
gteat scale is every thing in this country ! 

Thus, then, I conclude my observations. 
The infidel nations have each a separate cha- 
racteristic trait, by which they may be distin- 
guished from each other : — the Spaniards, 
for instance, may be said to sleep upon every 
affair of importance; the Italians to fiddle 
upon every thing ; the French to dance upon 
every thing; the Germans to smoke upon 
every thing; the British Islanders to eat upon 
every thing ; and the windy subjects of the 
American logocracy to talk upon every thing. 
Ever thine, 

MUSTAFHA. 



FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, Esq. 
How oft in musing mood my heart recalls, 
From grey-beard father Time's oblivious halls, 
The modes and maxims of my early day, 
Long in those dark recesses stow'd away 
Drags once more to the cheerful realms of light 
Those buckram fashions long since lost in night, 
And makes, like Endor's witch, once more to rise 
My grogram grandames to my raptur'd eyes ! 

Shades of my fathers ! in your pasteboard skirts, 
Your broider'd waistcoats and your plaited shirts, 
Your formal bag-wigs— wide-extended cuffs, 
Your five inch chitterlings and nine inch ruffs ! 
Gods ! how ye strut, at times, in all your state, 
Amid the visions of my thoughtful pate ; 
I see ye move the solemn minuet o'er, 
The modest foot scarce rising from the floor; 
No thundering rigadoon with boisterous prance, 
No pigcou-wing disturb your contre-danse. 



But silent as the gentle Lethe's tide, 
Adown the festive maze ye peaceful glide ! 

Still in my mental eye each dame appears— 
Each modest beauty of departed years ; 
Close by mamma I see her stately march, 
Or sit, in all the majesty of starch; 
When for the dance a stranger seeks her hand 
I see her doubting, hesitating, stand; 
Yield to his claim with most fastidious grace, 
And sigh for her intended in his place ! 

Ah ! golden days ! when every gentle fair 
On sacred Sabbath conn'd with pious care 
Her Holy Bible, or her prayer-hook o'er, 
Or studied honest Bunyan's drowsy lore. 
Travell'd with him the Pilgrim's Progress through, 
And storm'd the famous town of Man-Soul too ; 
Beat Eye and Ear-gate up with thundering jar,. 
And fought triumphant through the Holy War ; 
Or if, perchance, to lighter works inclin'd, 
They sought with novels to relax the mind, 
'Twas Grandison's politely formal page, 
Or Celia or Pamela were the rage. 

No plays were then*-— theatrics were unknown— 
A learned pig — a dancing monkey shown — 
The feats of Punch — a cunning juggler's sleight, 
Were sure to fill each bosom with delight. 
An honest, simple, hum-drum race we were, 
Undazzled yet by fashion's wildering glare ; 
Our manners unreserv'd, devoid of guile, 
We knew not then the modern monster style. 
Style, that with pride each empty bosom swells, 
Puffs boys to manhood, little girls to belles. 

Scarce from the nursery freed, our gentle fair 
Are yielded to the dancing-master's care ; 
And ere the head one mite of sense can gain, 
Are introdue'd 'mid folly's frippery train. 
A stranger's grasp no longer gives alarms, 
Our fair surrender to their very arms, 
And in the insidious waltz (1) will swim and twine, 
And whirl and languish tenderly divine ! 
Oh ! how I hate this loving, hugging dance 
This imp of Germany — brought up in France. 
Nor can I see a niece its windings trace, 
But all the honest blood glows in my face. 
" Sad, sad refinement this," I often say, 
" 'Tis modesty indeed refined away ! 
Let France its whim, its sparkling wit supply, 
The easy grace that captivates the eye ; 
But curse their waltz — their loose lascivious arts, 
That smooth our manners to corrupt our hearts \" (2) 
Where now those books from which, in days of yore, 
Our mothers gain'd their literary store ? 
Alas ! stiff skirted Grandison gives place 
To novels of a new and rakish race ; 
And honest Bunyan's pious dreaming lore, 
To the lascivious rhapsodies of Moore. 

And, last of all, behold the mimic stage 
Its morals lend to polish off the age, 
With flimsy farce, a comedy miscall'd, 
Garnish 'd with vulgar cant, and proverbs bald, 
With puns most puny, and a plenteous store 
Of smutty jokes, to catch a gallery roar. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



45 



Or see, more fatal, graced with every art, 
To charm and captivate the female heart, 
The false, " the gallant, gay Lothario " smiles, (3) 
And loudly boasts his base seductive wiles ; 
In glowing colours paints Calista's wrongs, 
And with voluptuous scenes the tale prolongs. 
When Cooper lends his fascinating pow«rs, 
Decks vice itself in bright alluring flowers, 
Pleas'd with his manly grace, his youthful fire, 
Our fair are lured the villain to admire ; 
While humbler virtue, like a stalking horse., 
Struts'clumsily and croaks in honest Blorse. 

Ah, hapless day ; when trials thus combin'd, 
In pleasing garb assail the female mind ; 
When every smooth insidious snare is spread 
To sap the morals and delude the head ; 
Not Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego, 
To prove their faith and virtue here below, 
Could more an angel's helping hand require 
To guide their steps uninjur'd through the fire, 
Where had but heaven its guardian aid denied, 
The holy trio in the proof had died. 
If, then, their manly vigour sought supplies 
From the bright stranger in celestial guise/ 
Alas ! can we from feebler natures claim 
To brave seduction's ordeal free from blame; 
To pass through fire unhurt like golden ore, 
Though angej missions bless the earth no more ! 



Notes, by William Wizard, Esq 

(1) Waltz.— As many of the retired matrons of this 
city, unskilled in " gestic lore," are doubtless igno- 
rant of the movements and figures of this modest ex- 
hibition, I will endeavour to give some account of it, 
in order that they may learn what odd capers their 
daughters sometimes cut when from under their 
guardian wings. On a signal being given by the 
music, the gentleman seizes the lady round her 
waist ; the lady, scorning to be outdone in courtesy, 
very politely takes the gentleman round the neck, 
with one arm resting against his shoulder to prevent 
encroachments. Away then they go, about, and 
about, and about — " About what, Sir?"— About the 
room, Madam, to be sure. The whole economy of this 
dance consists in turning round and round the room 
in a certain measured step ; and it is truly astonishing 
that this continued revolution does not set all their 
heads swimming 'like a top ; but I have been posi- 
tively assured that it only occasions a gentle sensa- 
tion which is marvellously agreeable. In the course 
of this circumnavigation, the dancers, in order to 
give the charm of variety, are continually changing 
their relative situations : — now the gentleman, mean- 
ing no harm in the world, I assure you, Madam, care- 
lessly flings his arm about the lady's neck, with an 
air of celestial impudence ; and anon, the lady, mean- 
ing as little harm as the gentleman, takes him round 
the waist with most ingenuous modest languishment, 
to the great delight of numerous spectators and ama- 
teurs, who generally form a ring, as the mob do 
about a pair of amazons pulling caps, or a couple of 
fighting mastiffs, After continuing this divine inter- 



change of hands, arms, et cetera, for half en hour or 
so, the lady begins to tire, and with « eyes upraised," 
In most bewitching languor petitions her partner for 
a little more support. This is always given without 
hesitation. The lady leans gently on his shoulder ; 
their arms entwine in a thousand seducing mis- 
chievous curves— don't be alarmed, Madam — closer 
and closer they approach each other, and, in conclu- 
sion, the parties being overcome with extatic fatigue, 
the lady seems almost sinking into the gentleman's 
arms, and then— " Well, Sir! what then?"— Lord! 
Madam, how should I know ! 

(2) My friend Pindar, and in fact our whole junto,, 
has been accused of an unreasonable hostility to the 
French nation ; and I am informed by a Parisian cor- 
respondent, that our first number played the very 
devil in the Court of St, Cloud. His Imperial Ma- 
jesty got into a most outrageous passion, and being 
withal a waspish little gentleman, had nearly kicked 
his bosom friend, Talleyrand, out of the cabinet, in 
the paroxysms of his wrath. He insisted upon it 
that the nation was assailed in its most vital part—' 
being, like Achilles, extremely sensitive to any at- 
tacks upon fhe heel. When my correspondent sent 
off his dispatches, it was still in doubt what measures 
would be adopted ; but it was strongly suspected that 
vehement representations would be made to our go- 
vernment. Willing, therefore, to save our executive 
from any embarrassment on the subject, and above 
all, from the disagreeable alternative of sending an 
apology by the Hornet, we do assure Mr. Jefferson, 
that there is nothing farther from our thoughts than 
the subversion of the Gallic Empire, or any attack 
on the interest, tranquillity, or reputation of the na- 
tion at large, which we seriously declare possesses 
the highest rank in our estimation. Nothing less 
than the national welfare could- have induced us to 
trouble ourselves with this explanation ; and in the 
name of the junto I once more declare, that when 
we toast a Frenchman, we merely mean one of those 
inconnus, who swarmed t& this country, from the 
kitchens and barbers' shops of Nantz, Bourdeaux, 
and Marseilles ; played the game of leap-frog at all our 
balls and assemblies ; set this unhappy town hopping 
mad; and passed themselves offon our tender-hearted 
damsels for unfortunate noblemen— ruined in the re- 
volution! Such only can wince at the lash, and ac- 
cuse us of severity ; and we should be mortified in the 
extreme if they did not feel our well-intended cas- 
tigation. 

(3) -Fair Penitent.— -The story of this play, if told 
in its native language, would exhibit a seene of guilt 
and shame which no modest ear could listen to with- 
out shrinking with disgust; but, arrayed as it is in 
all the splendour of harmonious, rich, and polished 
verse, it steals into the heart like some gay, luxu- 
rious, smooth-faced villain, and betrays it insensibly 
to immorality and vice ; our very sympathy is en 
listed on the side of guilt ; and the piety of Altamont, 
and the gentleness of Lavinia, are lost in the splen- 
did debaucheries of the a gallant gay Lothario," and 
the blustering, hollow repentance of the fair Calista, 
whose sorrow reminds us of that of Pope's Heloise • 
* I mourn the lover, not lament the fault." Nothing 
is more easy than to banish such plays from our stage. 



4G 



SALMAGUNDI. 



Were our ladies, instead of crowding to see them 
again and again repeated, to discourage their exhi- 
bition by absence, the stage would soon be indeed 
the school of morality, and the number of " Fan- 
Penitents ,» in all probability, diminish. 



No. 8. 
SATURDAY, APRIL 18, 1807- 

BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

* In all thy humours, whether grave or mellow, 
Thou'rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow, 
Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen about thee, 
There is no living with thee— or without thee." 

" Never, in the memory of the oldest inha- 
bitant, has there been known a more back- 
ward spring." This is the universal remark 
among the almanac quidnuncs and weather- 
wiseacres of the day ; and I have heard it at 
least fifty -five times from old Mrs. Cockloft, 
who, poor woman, is one of those walking 
almanacs that foretell every snow, rain, or 
frost, by the shooting of corns, a pain in the 
bones, or an " ugly stitch in the side." I 
do not recollect, in the whole course of my 
life, to have seen the month of March indulge 
in such untoward capers, caprices, and co- 
quetries as it has done this year: I might- 
have forgiven these vagaries, had they not 
completely knocked up my friend LangstafF, 
whose feelings are ever at the mercy of a 
weathercock, whose spirits sink and rise with 
the mercury of a barometer, and to whom an 
east wind is as obnoxious as a Sicilian sirocco. 
He was tempted some time since, by the fine- 
ness of the weather, to dress himself with 
more than ordinary care, and take his morn- 
ing stroll ; but before he had half finished 
his peregrination, he was utterly discomfited, 
and driven home by a tremendous squall oi 
wind, hail, rain, and snow ; or, as he testily 
termed it, " a most villainous congregation of 
vapours." 

This was too much for the patience of 
friend Launcelot ; he declared he would hu- 
mour the weather no longer in its whim- 
whams; and, according to his immemorial 
custom on these occasions, retreated in high 
dudgeon to his elbow-chair, to lie in of the 
spleen, and rail at nature for being so fantas- 
tical. " Confound the jade," he frequently 
exclaims, " what a pity nature had not been 
of the masculine instead of the feminine gen- 



der; the almanac-makers might then have 
calculated with some degree of certainty." 

When Langstaff invests himself with the 
splean, and gives audience to the blue devils, 
from his elbow-chair, I would not advise any 
of his friends to come within gun-shot of his 
citadel with the benevolent purpose of admi- 
nistering consolation or amusement ; for he 
is then as crusty and crabbed as that famous 
coiner of false money Diogenes himself. In- 
deed his room is at such times inaccessible ; 
and old Pompey is the only soul that can 
gain admission, or ask a question with impu- 
nity ; the truth is, that on these occasions 
there is not a straw's difference between them, 
for Pompey is as glum and grim and cynical 
as his master. 

Launcelot has now been above three weeks 
in this desolate situation, and has therefore 
had but little to do in our last number. As 
he could not be prevailed on to give any ac- 
count of himself in our introduction, I will 
take the opportunity of his confinement, while 
his back is turned, to give a slight sketch of 
his character — fertile in whim-whams and 
bachelorisms, but rich in many of the ster- 
ling qualities of our nature. 

Of the antiquity of the LangstafF family I 
can say but little ; except that I have no 
doubt it is equal to that of most families who 
have the privilege of making their own pedi- 
gree without the impertinent interposition of 
a college of heralds. My friend Launcelot is 
not a man to blazon any thing ; but I have 
heard him talk with great complacency of his 
ancestor, Sir Rowland, who was a dashing 
buck in the days of Hardiknute, and broke 
the head of a gigantic Dane, at a game of 
quarter-staff, in presence of the whole court. 
In memory of this gallant exploit, Sir Rowland 
was permitted to take the name of Lang- 
stofFe, and to assume, as a crest to his arms, 
a hand grasping a cudgel. It is, however, a 
foible so ridiculously common in this coun- 
try, for people to claim consanguinity with 
all the great personages of their own name in 
Europe, that I should put but little faith in 
this family boast of friend LangstafF, did I 
not know him to be a man of most unques- 
tionable veracity. 

The whole world knows already that my 
friend is a bachelor ; for he is, or pretends to 



SALMAGUNDI. 



47 



be, exceedingly proud of his personal inde- 
pendence, and takes care to make it known 
in all companies where strangers are present. 
He is for ever vaunting the precious state of 
" single blessedness ;" and was, not long 
ago, considerably startled at a proposition of 
one of his great favourites, Miss Sophy Spar- 
kle, " that old bachelors should be taxed as 
luxuries." — Launcelot immediately hied him 
home and wrote a tremendous long represen- 
tation in their behalf, which I am resolved to 
publish if it is ever attempted to carry the 
measure into operation. Whether he is sin- 
cere in these professions, or whether his pre- 
sent situation is owing to choice or disappoint- 
ment, he only can tell ; but if he ever does 
tell, I will suffer myself to be shot by the 
first lady's eye that can twang an arrow. In 
his youth he was for ever in love ; but it was 
his misfortune to be continually crossed and 
rivalled by his bosom friend and contempo- 
rary beau, Pindar Cockloft, Esq.; for as 
Langstaff never made a confidant on these 
occasions, his friends never knew which way 
his affections pointed ; and so, between them, 
the lady generally slipped through their fin- 
gers. 

It has ever been the misfortune of Launce- 
lot, that he could not for the soul of him re- 
strain a good thing ; and this fatality has 
drawn upon him the ill-will of many whom 
he would not have offended for the world. 
With the kindest heart under heaven, and 
the most benevolent disposition towards every 
being around him, he has been continually 
betrayed by the mischievous vivacity of his 
fancy, and the good-humoured waggery of his 
feelings, into satirical sallies which have been 
treasured up by the invidious, and retailed 
out with the bitter sneer of malevolence, in- 
stead of the playful hilarity of countenance 
which originally sweetened and tempered and 
disarmed them of their sting. These mis- 
representations have gained him many re- 
proaches, and lost him many a friend. 

This unlucky characteristic played the mis- 
chief with him in one of his love affairs. He 
was, as I have before observed, often opposed 
in his gallantries by that formidable rival, 
Pindar Cockloft,. Esq., and a most formidable 
rival he was ; for he had Apollo, the Nine 
Muses, together with all the joint tenants of 



Olympus to back him; and every body 
knows what important confederates they are 
to a lover — Poor Launcelot stood no chance : 
— the lady was cooped up in the poet's corner 
of every weekly paper ; and at length Pindar 
attacked her with a sonnet, that took up a 
whole column, in which he enumerated at 
least a dozen cardinal virtues, together with 
innumerable others of inferior consideration. 
Launcelot saw his case was deperate, and that 
unless he sat down forth-with, be-cherubimed 
and be-angeled her to the skies, and put every 
virtue under the sun in requisition, he might 
as well go hang himself and so make an end 
of the business. At it, therefore, he went ; 
and was going on very swimmingly, for, in 
the space of a dozen lines, he had enlisted 
under her command at least three score and 
ten subtantial house-keeping virtues, when, 
unluckily for Launcelot' s reputation as a 
poet and the lady's as a saint, one of those 
confounded good thoughts struck his laughter- 
loving brain ; — it was irresistible — away he 
went, full sweep before the wind, cutting and 
slashing, and tickled to death with his own 
fun ; the consequence was, that by the time 
he had finished, never was poor lady so 
most ludicrously lampooned since lampoon- 
ing came into fashion. But this was not half; 
— so hugely was Launcelot pleased with this 
frolic of his wits, that nothing would do but 
he must show it to the lady, who, as well 
she might, was mortally offended and forbid 
him her presence. My friend was in despair, 
but, through the interference of his generous 
rival, was permitted to make his apology, 
which, however, most unluckily happened to 
be rather worse than the original offence ; for 
though he had studied an eloquent compli- 
ment, yet as ill-luck would have it, a most 
preposterous whim-wham knocked at his 
pericranium, and inspired him to say some 
consummate good things, which, all put to- 
gether, amounted to a downright hoax, and 
provoked the lady's wrath to such a degree, 
that sentence of eternal banishment was 
awarded against him. 

Launcelot was inconsolable, and deter- 
mined in the true style of novel heroics to 
make the tour of Europe, and endeavour to 
lose the recollection of this misfortune amongst 
the gaieties of France, and the classic charms 



V 



43 



SALMAGUNDI. 



of Italy ; he accordingly took passage in a 
vessel, and pursued his voyage prosperously 
as far as Sandy-Hook, where he was seized 
with a violent fit of sea-sickness ; at which 
he was so affronted that he put his portman- 
teau into the first pihrt-boat, and returned to 
town completely cured of his love and his 
rage for travelling. 

I pass over the subsequent amours of my 
friend LangstafF, being but little acquainted 
with them ; for, as I have already mentioned, 
he never was known to make a confidant of 
any body. He always affirmed a man must 
be a fool to fall in love, but an idiot to boast 
of it ; — =ever denominated it the villanous 
passion ; — lamented that it could not be cud- 
gelled out of the human heart ; — and yet 
could no more live without being in love 
with somebody or other than he could with- 
out whim- whams. 

My friend Launcelot is a man of excessive 
irritability of nerve, and I am acquainted with 
no one so susceptible of the petty " miseries 
of human life ;" yet its keener evils and mis- 
fortunes he bears without shrinking, and, 
however they may prey in secret on his hap- 
piness, he never complains. This was strik- 
ingly evinced in an affair where his heart was 
deeply and irrevocably concerned, and in 
which his success was ruined, by one for 
whom he had long cherished a warm friend- 
ship. The circumstance cut poor LangstafF 
to the very soul ; he was not seen in company 
for months afterwards, and for a long time 
he seemed to retire within himself, and battle 
with the poignancy of his feelings ; but not a 
murmur or a reproach was heard to fall from 
his lips, though at the mention of his friend's 
name, a shade of melancholy might be ob- 
served stealing across his face, and his voice 
assumed a touching tone, that seemed to say, 
he remembered his treachery " more in sor- 
row than in anger." This affair has given a 
slight tinge of sadness to his disposition, 
which, however, does not prevent his entering 
into the amusements of the world ; the only 
effect it occasions, is, that you may occasion- 
ally observe him, at the end of a lively con- 
versation, sink for a few minutes into an 
apparent forgetfulness of surrounding objects, 
during which time he seems to be indulging 
in some melancholy retrospection. 



LangstafF inherited from his father a love 
of literature, a disposition for castle building, 
a mortal enmity to noise, a sovereign antipa- 
thy to cold weather and brooms, and a plen- 
tiful stock of whim-whams. From the deli- 
cacy of his nerves he is peculiarly sensible to 
discordant sounds ; the rattling of a wheel- 
barrow is " horrible ;" the noise of children 
" drives him distracted ;" and he once left 
excellent lodgings merely because the lady of 
the house wore high-heeled shoes, in which 
she clattered up and down stairs, till, to use 
his own emphatic expression, " they made 
life loathsome" to him. He suffers annual 
martyrdom from the razor -edged zephyrs of 
our " balmy spring," and solemnly declares 
that the boasted month of May has become a 
perfect " vagabond." As some people have 
a great antipathy to cats, and can tell when 
one is locked up in a closet, so Launcelot de- 
clares his feelings always announce to him 
the neighbourhood of a broom ; a household 
implement which he abominates above all 
others. Nor is there any living animal in the 
world that he holds in more utter abhorrence 
than what is usually termed a notable house- 
wife ; a pestilent being, v/ho, he protests, is 
the bane of good fellowship, and has a heavy 
charge to answer for the many ofFences coin-, 
mitted against the ease, comfort, and social 
enjoyments of sovereign man. He told me, 
not long ago, " that he had rather see one of 
the weird sisters flourish through his key Jiole 
on a broom-stick, than one of the servant, 
maids enter the door with a besom." 

My friend Launcelot is ardent and sincere 
in his attachments, which are confined to a, 
chosen few, in whose society he loves to give 
free scope to his whimsical imagination ; he, 
however, mingles freely with the world, 
though more as a spectator than an actor ; 
and without an anxiety, or hardly a care to 
please, is generally received with welcome and 
listened to with complacency. When he ex- 
tends his hand it is in a free, open, liberal 
style ; and when you shake it, you feel his 
honest heart throb in its pulsations. Though, 
rather fond of gay exhibitions, he does not 
appear so frequently at balls and assemblies 
since the introduction of the drum, trumpet, 
and tambourine; all of which he abhors on ac-> 
count of the rude attacks they make on hig 



SALMAGUNDI. 



49 



organs of hearing : in short, such is his anti- 
pathy to noise, that though exceedingly pa- 
triotic, yet, he retreats every fourth of July 
to Cockloft Hall, in order to get out of the 
way of the hub- bub and confusion which 
make so considerable a part of the pleasure of 
that splendid anniversary. 

I intend this article as a mere sketch of 
Langstaff's multifarious character ; his innu- 
merable whim-whams will be exhibited by 
himself, in the course of this work, in all their 
strange varieties ; and the machinery of his 
mind, more intricate than in the most subtle 
piece of clock-work, be fully explained. — 
And trust me, gentlefolk, his are the whim- 
whams of a courteous gentleman full of most 
excellent qualities ; honourable in his dispo- 
sition, independent in his sentiments, and of 
unbounded good nature as may be seen 
through all his works. 



ON STYLE. 

BY WIXLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

Style, a manner of writing ; title ; pin of a dial ; the 
pistil of plants. Johnson. 

Style, is style. Linkum Fidelius. 

Now I would not give a straw for either of 
the above definitions, though I think the 
latter by far the most satisfactory ; and I do 
wish sincerely every modern numskull, who 
takes hold of a subject he knows nothing 
about, would adopt honest Linkum's mode 
of explanation. Blair's Lectures on this 
article have not thrown a whit more light on 
the subject of my inquiries ; — they puzzled 
me just as much as did the learned and labo- 
rious expositions and illustrations of the 
worthy professor of our college, in the middle 
of which I generally had the ill luck to fall 
asleep. 

This same word style, though but a dimi- 
nutive word, assumes to itself more contra- 
dictions, and significations, and eccentricities, 
than any monosyllable in the language is 
legitimately entitled to. It is an arrant little 
humourist of a word, and full of whim-whams, 
which occasions me to like it hugely ; but 
it puzzled me most wickedly on my first re- 
turn from a long residence abroad, having 
crept into fashionable use during my absence ; 
E 



and had it not been for friend Evergreen, and 
that thrifty sprig of knowledge, Jeremy 
Cockloft the younger, I should have remained 
to this day ignorant of its meaning. 

Though it would seem that the people of 
all countries are equally vehement in the 
pursuit of this phantom style, yet in almost 
all of them there is a strange diversity in 
opinion as to what constitutes its essence ; 
and every different class, like the pagan na- 
tions, adore it under a different form. In 
England, for instance, an honest cit packs up 
himself, his family and his style in a buggy 
or tim whisky, and rattles away on Sunday 
with his fair partner blooming beside him, 
like an eastern bride, and two chubby chil- 
dren, squatting like Chinese images at his 
feet. A Baronet requires a chariot and pair ; 
— a Lord must needs have a barouche and 
four ; — but a Duke— oh ! a Duke cannot 
possibly lumber his style along under a coach 
and six, and half a score of footmen into the 
bargain. In China a puissant mandarin loads 
at least three elephants with style ; and an 
overgrown sheep at the Cape of Good-Hope, 
trails along his tail and his style on a wheel- 
barrow. In Egypt, or at Constantinople, 
style consists in the quantity of fur and fine 
clothes a lady can put on without danger of 
suffocation ! here it is otherwise, and consists 
in the quantity she can put off without the 
risk of freezing. A Chinese lady is thought 
prodigal of her charms if she exposes the tip 
of her nose, or the ends of her fingers, to the 
ardent gaze of by-standers; and I recollect 
that all Canton was in a buzz in consequence 
of the great belle Miss Nangfous peeping out 
of the window with her face uncovered ! Here 
the style is to show not only the face, but the 
neck, shoulders, &c. ; and a lady never pre- 
sumes to hide them except when she is not at 
home, and not sufficiently undressed to see 
company. 

This style has ruined the peace and har- 
mony of many a worthy household ; for no 
sooner do they set up for style, but instantly 
all the honest old comfortable sans ceremonie 
furniture is discarded : and you stalk, cauti- 
ously about, amongst the uncomfortable 
splendour of Grecian chairs, Egyptian tables, 
Turkey carpets, and Etruscan vases. This 
vast improvement in furniture demands an 



50 



SALMAGUNDI. 



increase in the domestic establishment ; and 
i family that once required two or three ser- 
vants for convenience, now employs half a 
dozen for style. 

Bel]-Brazen, late favourite. of my unfortu- 
nate friend Dessalines, was one of these pat- 
terns of style ; and whatever freak she was 
seized with, however preposterous, was impli- 
citly followed by all who would be considered 
as admitted in the stylish arcana. — She was 
once seized with a whim-wham that tickled 
the whole court. She could not lay down to 
take an afternoon's loll, but she must have 
one servant to scratch her head, two to tickle 
her feet, and a fourth to fan her delectable 

person while she slumbered The thing 

took ; — it became the rage, and not a sable 
belle in all Hayti but what insisted upon 
being fanned, and scratched, and tickled in 
the true imperial style. Sneer not at this 
picture, my most excellent townsmen, for 
who among you but are daily following fa- 
shions equally absurd ! 

Style, according to Evergreen's account, 
consists in certain fashions, or certain eccen- 
tricities, or certain manners of certain people, 
in certain situations, and possessed of a certain 
share of fashion or importance. A red 
cloak, for instance, on the shoulders of an old 
market-woman is regarded with contempt; 
it is vulgar, it is odious : — fling, however, its 
usurping rival, a red shawl, over the figure of 
a fashionable belle, and let her flame away 
with it in Broad-way, or in a ball-room, and 
it is immediately declared to be the style. 

The modes of attaining this certain situa- 
tion, which entitles its holder to style, are 
various and opposite : the most ostensible is 
the attainment of wealth : the possession of 
which changes, at once, the pert airs of vulgar 
ignorance into fashionable ease and elegant 
vivacity. It is highly amusing to observe 
the gradation of a family aspiring to style, 
and the devious windings they pursue in 
order to attain it. While beating up against 
wind and tide they are the most complaisant 
beings in the world : they keep " booing and 
booing," as M'Sycophant says, until you 
would suppose them incapable of standing 
upright ; they kiss their hands to every body 
who has the least claim to style ; their fami- 
liarity is intolerable, and they absolutely 



overwhelm you with their friendship and 
loving-kindness. But having once gained the 
envied pre-eminence, never were beings in the 
world more changed. They assume the most 
intolerable caprices ; at one time, address you 
with importunate sociability ; at another, 
pass you by with silent indifference ; some- 
times sit up in their chairs in all the majesty 
of dignified silence ; and at another time 
bounce about with all the obstreperous ill- 
bred noise of a little hoyden just broke loose 
from a boarding-school. 

Another feature which distinguishes these 
new made fashionables, is the inveteracy with 
which they look down upon the honest people 
who are struggling to climb up to the same 
envied height. They never fail to salute 
them with the most sarcastic reflections : and 
like so many worthy hodmen, clambering a 
ladder, each one looks down upon his next 
neighbour below and makes no scruple of 
shaking the dust off his shoes into his eyes. 
Thus by dint of perseverance, merely, they 
come to be considered as established denizens 
of the great world: as in some barbarous 
nations an oyster shell is of sterling value, 
and a copper washed counter will pass current 
for genuine gold. 

In no instance have I seen this grasping 
after style more whimsically exhibited, than 
in the family of my old acquaintance Timothy 
Giblet. I recollected old Giblet when I was 
a boy, and he was the most surly curmudgeon 
I ever knew. He was a perfect scare-crow to 
the small-fry of the day, and inherited the 
hatred of all these unlucky little shavers ; 
for never could we assemble about his door of 
an evening to play and make a little hub-bub, 
but out he sallied from his nest like a spider, 
flourished his formidable horse whip, and 
dispersed the whole crew in the twinkling of 
a lamp. I perfectly remember a bill he sent 
in to my father for a pane of glass I had acci- 
dently broken, which came well nigh getting 
me a sound flogging : and I remember, as per- 
fectly, that the next night I revenged myself 
by breaking half a dozen. Giblet was as 
arrant a grub-worm as ever crawled ; and the 
only rules of right and wrong he cared a 
button for, were the rules of multiplication 
and addition ; which he practised much more 
successfully than he did any of the rules of 



SALMAGUNDI. 



51 



religion or morality. He used to declare 
they were the true golden rules ; and he took 
special care to put Cocker's arithmetic in the 
hands of his children, before they had read 
ten pages in the bible or the prayer book. 
The practice of these favourite maxims was 
at length crowned with the harvest of success ; 
and after a life of incessant self-denial, and 
starvation, and after enduring all the pounds, 
shillings and pence miseries of a miser, he 
had the satisfaction of seeing himself worth a 
plum, and of dying just as he had determined 
to enjoy the remainder of his days in contem- 
plating his great wealth and accumulating 
mortgages. 

His children inherited his money ; but 
they buried the disposition, and every other 
memorial of their father in his grave. Fired 
with a noble thirst for style, they instantly 
emerged from the retired lane in which 
themselves and their accomplishments had 
hitherto been buried; and they blazed, and 
they whizzed, and they cracked about town, 
like a nest of squibs and devils in a firework. 
I can liken their sudden eclat to nothing but 
that of the locust, which is hatched in the 
dust, where it increases and swells up to 
maturity, and after feeling for a moment the 
vivifying rays of the sun, burst forth a 
mighty insect, and flutters, and rattles, and 
buzzes from every tree. The little warblers 
who have long cheered the woodlands with 
their dulcet notes, are stunned by the dis- 
cordant racket of these upstart intruders, and 
contemplate, in contemptuous silence, their 
tinsel and their noise. 

Having once started, the Giblets were de- 
termined that nothing should stop them in 
their career, until they had run their full 
course and arrived at the very tiptop of style. 
Every tailor, every shoemaker, every coach- 
maker, every milliner, every mantua-maker, 
every paper-hanger, every piano teacher, and 
every dancing master in the city, were en- 
listed in their service ; and the willing wights 
most courteously answered their call, and fell 
to work to build up the fame of the Giblets, 
as they had done that of many an aspiring 
family before them. In a little time the 
young ladies could dance the waltz, thunder 
Lodoiska, murder French, kill time, and 
commit violence on the face of nature in a 
E 2 



landscape in water colours, equal to the best 
lady in the land ; and the young gentlemen 
were seen lounging at corners of streets, and 
driving tandem ; heard talking loud at the 
theatre, and laughing in church, with as 
much ease and grace, and modesty, as if they 
had been gentlemen all the days of their lives. 

And the Giblets arrayed themselves in 
scarlet, and in fine linen, and seated them- 
selves in high places; but nobody noticed 
them except to honour them with a little 
contempt. The Giblets made a prodigious 
splash in their own opinion ; but nobody 
extolled them except the tailors, and the 
milliners, who had been employed in manu- 
facturing their paraphernalia. The Giblets 
thereupon being, like Caleb Quotem, deter- 
mined to have " a place at the review," fell 
to work more fiercely than ever ; — they gave 
dinners, and they gave balls, they hired cooks, 
they hired confectioners ; and they would 
have kept a newspaper in pay, had they not 
been all bought up at that time for the elec- 
tion. They invited the dancing men, and 
the dancing women, and the gormandizers, 
and the epicures of the city, to come and 
make merry at their expense ; and the dan- 
cing men, and the dancing women, and the 
epicures, and the gormandizers, did come ; 
and they did make merry at their expense ; 
and they eat and they drank, and they ca- 
pered, and they danced, and they — laughed 
at their entertainers. 

Then commenced the hurry and the bustle, 
and the mighty nothingness of fashionable 
life ; — such rattling in coaches ! such flaunt- 
ing in the streets ! such slamming of box 
doors at the theatre ! such a tempest of bustle 
and unmeaning noise wherever they appeared ! 
The Giblets were seen here, there, and every 
where ; — they visited every body they knew, 
and every body they did not know ; and there 
was no getting along for the Giblets. Their 
plan at length succeeded. By dint of dinners, 
of feeding and frolicking the town, the Giblet 
family worked themselves into notice, and 
enjoyed the ineffable pleasure of being for ever 
pestered by visitors, who cared nothing about 
them ; of being squeezed, and smothered, and 
parboiled at nightly balls, and evening tea 
parties ; they were allowed the privilege of 
forgetting the very few old friends they once 



52 



SALMAGUNDI. 



possessed ;— they turned their noses up in the 
wind at every thing that was not genteel ; 
and their superb manners and sublime affec- 
tation at length left it no longer a matter of 
doubt that the Giblets were perfectly in the 
style. 

« Being, as it were, a small contentmente in 

« never contenting subjecte ; a bitter pleasaunte 
taste of a sweete seasoned sower ; and, all in all, ft 
more than ordinarie rejoicing, in an extraordinarie 
sonrow of delyghts !"— 

We have been considerably edified of late 
by several letters of advice from a number of 
sage coirespondents, who really seem to know 
more about our work than we do ourselves. 
One warns us against saying any thing more 
about Snivers, who is a very particular friend 
of the writer, and who has a singular dis- 
inclination to be laughed at. This corres- 
pondent in particular inveighs against person- 
alities, and accuses us of ill nature in bring- 
ing forward old Fungus and Billy Dimple, 
as figures of fun to amuse the public. Ano- 
ther gentleman, who states that he is a near 
relation of the Cocklofts, proses away most 
soporifically on the impropriety of ridiculing 
a respectable old family ; and declares that if 
we make them and their whim-whams the 
subject of any more essays, he shall be under 
the necessity of applying to our theatrical 
champions for satisfaction. A third, who by 
the crabbedness of the hand-writing, and a 
few careless inaccuracies in the spelling, ap- 
pears to be a lady, assures us that the Miss 
Cocklofts and Miss Diana Wearwell and Miss 

Dashaway, and Mrs , Will Wizard's 

quondam flame, are so much obliged to us for 
our notice, that they intend in future to take no 
notice of us at all, but leave us out of all their 
tea-parties ; for which we make them one of 
our best bows, and say, " thank you ladies." 
We wish to heaven these good people 
would attend to their own affairs, if they 
have any to attend to, and let us alone. It is 
one of the most provoking things in the world 
that we cannot tickle the public a little, 
merely for our own private amusement, but 
we must be crossed and jostled by these med- 
dling incendiaries, and, in fact, have the whole 
town about our ears. We are much in the 
same situation with an unluckly blade of a 
Cockney, who having mounted his bit of 



blood to enjoy a little innocent recreation, and 
display his horsemanship along Broadway, is 
worried by all those little yelping curs that 
infest our city, and who never fail to sally out 
and growl, and bark, and snarl, to the great 
annoyance of the Birmingham equestrian. 

Wisely was it said by the sage Linkum 
Fidelius, " howbeit, moreover, nevertheless, 
this thrice wicked towne is charged up to the 
muzzle with all manner of ill-natures and 
uncharitablenesses, and is, moreover, exceed- 
inglie naughtie." This passage of the erudite 
Linkum was applied to the city of Gotham, 
of which he was once Lord Mayor, as appears 
by his picture hung up in the hall of that 
ancient city ; — but his observation fits this 
best of all possible cities " to a hair." It is 
a melancholy truth that this same New- York, 
though the most charming, pleasant, polished 
and praise-worthy city under the sun, and in 
a word the bonne louche of the universe, is 
most shockingly ill-natured, and sarcastic, 
and wickedly given to all manner of back- 
slidings ; — for which we are very sorry in- 
deed. In truth, for it must come out, like 
murder, one time or other, the inhabitants are 
not only ill-natured, but manifestly unjust : 
no sooner do they get one of our random 
sketches in their hands, but instantly they 
apply it most unjustifiably to some " dear 
friend," and then accuse us vociferously of 
the personality which originated in their own 
officious friendship ! Tnuly, it is an ill- 
natured town, and most earnestly do we hope 
it may not meet with the fate of Sodom and 
Gomorrah of old. 

As, however, it may be thought incumbent 
upon us to make some apology for these mis- 
takes of the town, and as our good-nature is 
truly exemplary, we would certainly answer 
this expectation, were it not that we have a 1 
invincible antipathy to making apologies. We 
have a most profound contempt for any man 
who cannot give three good reasons for an 
unreasonable thing ; and will therefore con- 
descend, as usual, to give the public three 
special reasons for never apologizing : — first, 
an apology implies that we are accountable 
to somebody or another for our conduct ;— 
now, as we do not care a fiddle-stick, as au- 
thors, for either public opinion or private ill- 
will, it would be implying a falsehood to 



salmagundi. 



apologize : — second, an apology would indi- 
cate that we had been doing what we ought 
not to have done. Now as we never did nor 
ever intend to do any thing wrong, it would 
be ridiculous to make an apology : — third, 
we labour under the same incapacity in the 
art of apologizing that lost Langstaff his 
mistress ; — we never yet undertook to make 
an apology without committing a new offence, 
and making matters ten times worse than they 
were before ; and we are, therefore, deter- 
mined to avoid such predicaments in future. 

But though we have resolved never to apo- 
logize, yet we have no particular objection to 
explain ; and if this is all that's wanted, we 
will go about it directly : — Allons, gentlemen ! 
— Before, however, we enter upon this serious 
affair, we take this opportunity to express our 
surprise and indignation at the incredulity of 
some people. Have we not, over and over, 
assured the town that we are three of the best 
natured fellows living ? And is it not asto- 
nishing, that having already given seven con- 
vincing proofs of the truth of this assurance, 
they should still have any doubts on the sub- 
ject ? — but as it is one of the impossible 
things to make a knave believe in honesty, 
so, perhaps, it may be another to make this 
most sarcastic, satirical, and tea-drinking city 
believe in the existence of good-nature. But 
to our explanation. Gentle reader ! for we 
are convinced that none but gentle or genteel 
readers can relish our excellent productions, 
if thou art in expectation of being perfectly 
satisfied with what we are about to say, thou 
mayest as well " whistle lillebullero," and 
skip quite over what follows ; for never wight 
was more disappointed than thou wilt be most 
assuredly — But to the explanation : We care 
just as much about the public and its wise 
conjectures, as we do about the man in the 
moon and his whim-whams ; or the criticisms 
of the lady who sits majestically in her elbow- 
chair in the lobster; and who, belying her 
sex, as we are credibly informed, never says 
any thing worth listening to. We have 
launched our bark, and we will steer to our 
destined port with undeviating perseverance, 
fearless of being shipwrecked by the way. 
Good-nature is our steersman, reason our 
ballast, whim the breeze that waftfl us along, 
and morality our leading star. 
E 3 



No. IX. 
SATURDAY, APRIL 25, 1807 

FROSI MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

It in some measure jumps with my humour 
to be " melancholy and gentleman-like " this 
stormy night, and I see no reason why I 
should not indulge myself for once. Away, 
then, with joke, with fun and laughter for 
awhile ; let my soul look back in mournful 
retrospect, and sadden with the memory of 
my good aunt Charity — who died of a French- 
man ! 

Stare not, O ! most dubious reader, at the 
mention of a complaint so uncommon ; griev- 
ously hath it afflicted the ancient family of 
the Cocklofts, who carry their absurd anti- 
pathy to the French so far, that they will not 
suffer a clove of garlic in the house : and my 
good old friend Christopher was once on the 
point of abandoning his paternal country 
mansion of Cockloft-hall, merely because a 
colony of frogs had settled in a neighbouring 
swamp. I verily believe he would have car- 
ried his whim-wham into effect, had not a 
fortunate drought obliged the enemy to strike 
their tents, and, like a troop of wandering 
Arabs, to march off towards a moister part 
of the country. 

My aunt Charity departed this life in the 
fifty-ninth year of her age, though she never 
grew older after twenty-five. In her teens 
she was, according to her own account, a cele- 
brated beauty — though I never could meet 
with any body that remembered when she was 
handsome "; on the contrary, Evergreen's fa- 
ther, who used to gallant her in his youth, 
says she was as knotty a little piece of huma- 
nity as he ever saw ; and that, if she had 
been possessed of the least sensibility, she 
would, like poor old Acco, have most cer- 
tainly run mad at her own figure and face the 
first time she contemplated herself in a look- 
ing-glass. In the good old times that saw 
my aunt in the hey-day of youth, a fine lady 
was a most formidable animal, and required 
to be approached with the same awe and de- 
votion that a Tartar feels in the presence ox 
his Grand Lama. If a gentleman offered to 
take her hand, except to help her into a car- 
riage, or lead her into a drawing-room, such 
frowns ! such a rustling of brocade and taf- 



54 



SALMAGUNDI. 



feta ! Her very paste shoe-buckles sparkled 
with indignation, and for a moment assumed 
the brilliancy of diamonds ! In those days 
the person of a belle was sacred — it was un- 
profaned by the sacrilegious grasp of a stran- 
ger : — simple souls ! — they had not the waltz 
among them yet ! 

My good aunt prided herself on keeping up 
this buckram delicacy ; and if she happened 
to be playing at the old-fashioned game of 
forfeits, and was fined a kiss, it was always 
more trouble to get it than it was worth ; for 
she made a most gallant defence, and never 
surrendered until she saw her adversary in- 
clined to give over his attack. Evergreen's 
father says he remembers once to have been 
on a sleighing party with her, and when they 
came to Kissing-bridge, it fell to his lot to 
levy contributions on Miss Charity Cockloft, 
who, after squalling at a hideous rate, at 
length jumped out of the sleigh plump into 
a snow bank, where she stuck fast like an 
icicle, until he came to her rescue. This 
Latonian feat cost her a rheumatism, which 
she never thoroughly recovered. 

It is rather singular that my aunt, though 
a great beauty, and an heiress withal, never 
got married. The reason she alleged was, 
that she never met with a lover who resem- 
bled Sir Charles Grandison, the hero of her 
nightly dreams and waking fancy ; but I am 
privately of opinion that it was owing to her 
never having had an offer. This much is 
certain, that for many years previous to her 
decease, she declined all attentions from the 
gentlemen, and contented herself with watch- 
ing over the welfare of her fellow-creatures. 
She was, indeed, observed to take a consider- 
able lean towards methodism, was frequent in 
her attendance at love feasts, read Whitfield 
and Wesley, and even went so far as once to 
travel the distance of five-and-twenty miles to 
be present at a camp meeting. This gave great 
offence to my cousin Christopher, and his good 
lady, who, as I have already mentioned, are 
rigidly orthodox ; and had not my aunt Cha- 
rity been of a most pacific disposition, her 
religious whim-wham would have occasioned 
many a family altercation. She was, indeed, as 
good a soul as the Cockloft family ever boasted 
. — a lady of unbounded loving kindness, which 
extended to man, woman, and child ; many 



of whom she almost killed with good-nature. 
Was any cquaintance sick ? — in vain did 
the wind whistle and the storm beat — my 
aunt would waddle through mud and mire, 
over the whole town, but what she would 
visit them. She would sit by them for hours 
together with the most persevering patience ; 
and tell a thousand melancholy stories of hu- 
man misery to keep up their spirits. The 
whole catalogue of yerb teas was at her fin- 
gers' ends, from formidable worm-wood down 
to gentle balm ; and she would descant by 
the hour on the healing qualities of hoar- 
hound, catnip, and penny-royal. Woe be to 
the patient that came under the benevolent 
hand of my aunt Charity ; he was sure, willy 
nilly, to be drenched with a deluge of decoc- 
tions ; and full many a time has my cousin 
Christopher borne a twinge of pain in silence, 
through fear of being condemned to suffer 
the martyrdom of her materia-medica. My 
good aunt had, moreover, considerable skill 
in astronomy ; for she could tell when the 
sun rose and set every day in the year ; and 
no woman in the whole world was able to 
pronounce, with more certainty, at what pre- 
cise minute the moon changed. She held the 
story of the moon's being made of green 
cheese as an abominable slander on her fa- 
vourite planet; and she had made several 
valuable discoveries in solar eclipses, by 
means of a bit of burnt glass, which entitled 
her at least to an honorary admission in the 
American Philosophical Society. " Hut- 
ching^ Improved " was her favourite book ; 
and I shrewdly suspect that it was from this 
valuable work she drew most of her sovereign 
remedies for colds, coughs, corns, and con- 
sumptions. 

But the truth must be told ; with all her 
good qualities my aunt Charity was afflicted 
with one fault, extremely rare among her 
gentle sex — it was curiosity. How she came 
by it I am at a loss to imagine, but it played 
the very vengeance with her, and destroyed 
the comfort of her life. Having an invincible 
desire to know every body's character, busi- 
ness, and mode of living, she was for ever 
prying into the affairs of her neighbours ; and 
got a great deal of ill will from people towards 
whom she had the kindest disposition pos- 
sible If any family on the opposite side of the 



SALMAGUNDI. 



53 



street gave a dinner, my aunt would mount 
her spectacles, and sit at the window until 
the company were all housed, merely that she 
might know who they were. If she heard a 
story about any of her acquaintance, she 
would, forthwith, set off full sail, and never 
rest until, to use her usual expression, she 
had got " to the bottom of it ;" which meant 
nothing more than telling it to every body 
she knew. 

I remember one night my aunt Charity 
happened to hear a most precious story about 
one of her good friends, but unfortunately too 
late to give it immediate circulation. It 
made her absolutely miserable ; and she 
hardly slept a wink all night, for fear her 
bosom-friend, Mrs. Sip kins, should get the 
start of her in the morning and blow the 
whole affair. You must know there was al- 
ways a contest between these two ladies, who 
should first give currency to the good-na- 
tured things said about every body ; and this 
unfortunate rivalship at length proved fatal 
to their long and ardent friendship. My aunt 
got up full two hours that morning before her 
usual time ; put on her pompadour taffeta 
gown, and sallied forth to lament the misfor- 
tune of her dear friend. Would you believe 
it ! — wherever she went, Mrs. Sipkins had 
anticipated her ; and, instead of being listened 
to with uplifted hands and open-mouthed 
wonder, my unhappy aunt was obliged to sit 
down quietly and listen to the whole affair, 
with numerous additions, alterations, and 
amendments ! Now this was too bad ; it 
would almost have provoked Patient Grizzle 
or a saint ; — it was too much for my aunt, 
who kept her bed three days afterwards, with 
a cold, as she pretended ; but I have no 
doubt it was owing to this affair of Mrs. Sip- 
kins, to whom she never would be reconciled. 

But I pass over the rest of my aunt Cha- 
rity's life, checkered with the various calami- 
ties and misfortunes and mortifications inci- 
dent to those worthy old gentlewomen who 
have the domestic cares of the whole commu- 
nity upon their minds ; and I hasten to relate 
the melancholy incident that hurried her out 
of existence in the full bloom of antiquated 
virginity. 

In their frolitksome malice the Fates had 
ordered that a French boarding-house, or 



Pension Francaise, as it was called, should 
be established directly opposite my aunt's 
residence. Cruel event ! unhappy aunt Cha- 
rity ! — it threw her into that alarming dis- 
order denominated the fidgets ; she did nothing 
but watch at the window day after day, but 
without becoming one whit the wiser at the 
end of a fortnight than she was at the begin- 
ning ; she thought that neighbour Pension 
had a monstrous large family, and some how 
or other they were all men ! She could no* 
imagine what business neighbour Pension 
followed to support so numerous a household ; 
and wondered why there was always such a 
scraping of fiddles in the parlour, and such a 
smell of onions from neighbour Pension's 
kitchen : in short, neighbour Pension was 
continually uppermost in her thoughts, and 
incessantly on the outer edge of her tongue. 
This was, I believe, the very first time she 
had ever failed " to get at the bottom of a 
thing ;" and the disappointment cost her 
many a sleepless night 1 warrant ycu. I 
have little doubt, however, that my aunt 
would have ferretted neighbour Pension out, 
could she have spoken or understood French ; 
but in those times people in general could 
make themselves understood in plain Eng- 
lish ; and it was always a standing rule in 
the Cockloft family, which exists to this day, 
that not one of the females should learn 
French. 

My aunt Charity had lived, at her window, 
for some time in vain ; when one day as she 
was keeping her usual look-out, and suffering 
all the pangs of unsatisfied curiosity, she be- 
held a little meagre, weazel-faced Frenchman, 
of the most forlorn, diminutive, and pitiful 
proportions, arrive at neighbour Pension's 
door. He was dressed in white, with a little 
pinched-up cocked hat ; he seemed to shake 
in the wind, and every blast that went over 
him whistled through his bones and threat- 
ened instant annihilation. This embodied 
spirit of famine was followed by three carts, 
lumbered with crazy trunks, chests, band- 
boxes, bidets, medicine-chests, parrots, and 
monkeys ; and at his heels ran a yelping pack 
of little black-nosed pug-dogs. This wa3 
the one thing wanting to fill up the measure 
of my aunt Charity's afflictions ; she could 
not conceive, for the soul of her, who this 



SALMAGUNDI, 



mysterious little apparition could be that 
made so great a display ; what he could pos- 
sibly do with so much baggage, and parti- 
cularly with his parrots and monkeys ; or 
how so small a carcass could have occasion 
for so many trunks of clothes. Honest soul ! 
she had never had a peep into a Frenchman's 
wardrobe — that depot of old coats, hats, and 
breeches, of the growth of every fashion he 
has followed in his life. 

From the time of this fatal arrival my 
poor aunt was in a quandary ; all her inqui- 
ries were fruitless ; no one could expound the 
history of this mysterious stranger ; she never 
held up her head afterwards — drooped daily, 
took to her bed in a fortnight, and in " one 
little month" I saw her quietly deposited in 
the family vault — being the seventh Cockloft 
that has died of a whim-wham ! 

Take warning, my fair countrywomen ! 
and you, O ! ye excellent ladies, whether 
married or single, who pry into other people's 
affairs and neglect those of your own house- 
hold ; who are so busily employed in observ- 
ing the faults of others that you have no time 
to correct your own ; remember the fate of 
my dear aunt Charity, and eschew the evil 
spirit of curiosity. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

I find, by perusal of our last number, that 
Will Wizard and Evergreen, taking advan- 
tage of my confinement, have been playing 
some of their gambols. I suspected these 
rogues of some mal-practices, in consequence 
of their queer looks and knowing winks when- 
ever I came down to dinner ; and of their not 
showing their faces at old Cockloft's for seve- 
ral days after the appearance of their precious 
effusions. Whenever these two waggish fel- 
lows lay their heads together, there is always 
sure to be hatched some notable piece of mis- 
chief, which, if it tickles nobody else, is sure 
to make its authors merry. The public will 
take notice that, for the purpose of teaching 
these my associates better manners, and 
punishing them for their high misdemeanours, 
I have, by virtue of my authority, suspended 
them from all interference in Salmagundi, 
until they show a proper degree of repentance, 
or I get tired of supporting the burthen >of 



the work myself. I am sorry for Will, who 
is already sufficiently mortified in not daring 
to come to the old house and tell his long 
stories and smoke his cigar ; but Evergreen, 
being an old beau, may solace himself in his 
disgrace by trimming up all his old finery, 
and making love to the little girls. 

At present my right-hand man is cbusm 
Pindar, whom I have taken into high favour. 
He came home the other night all in a blaze 
like a sky-rocket ; whisked up to his room 
in a paroxysm of poetic inspiration ; nor did 
we see any thing of him until late the next 
morning, when he bounced upon us at break- 
fast, 

u Fire in each eye, and paper in each hand." 
This is just the way with Pindar — he is 
like a volcano ; will remain for a long time 
silent without emitting a single spark, and 
then, all at once, burst out in a tremendous 
explosion of rhyme and rhapsody. 

As the letters of my friend Mustapha seem 
to excite considerable curiosity, I have sub- 
joined another. I do not vouch for the jus- 
tice of his remarks, or the correctness of his 
conclusions ; they are full of the blunders 
and errors into which strangers continually 
indulge, who pretend to give an account of 
this country before they well know the geo- 
graphy of the street in which they live. The 
copies of my friend's papers being confused 
and without date, I cannot pretend to give 
them in systematic order ; in fact, they seem 
now and then to treat of matters which have 
occurred since his departure : whether these 
are sly interpolations of that meddlesome 
wight Will Wizard, or whether honest Mus- 
tapha was gifted with the spirit of prophecy 
or second sight, I neither know — nor in fact 
do I care. The following seems to have been 
written when the Tripolitan prisoners were so 
much annoyed by the ragged state of their ward- 
robe. Mustapha feelingly depicts the embar- 
rassments of his situation traveller-like; makes 
an easy transition from his breeches to the 
seat of government, and incontinently abuses 
the whole administration ; like a sapient tra- 
veller I once knew, who damned the French 
nation in Mo — because they eat sugar with 
green peas. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



m 



LETTER 

FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN 

To Asem Hicckem, principal Slave-driver 
to his Highness the Bashaw of Tripoli. 

Sweet, O, Asem ! is the memory of distant 
friends ! Like the mellow ray of a departing 
sun, it falls tenderly yet sadly on the heart. 
Every hour of absence from my native land 
rolls heavily by, like the sandy wave of the 
desert ; and the fair shores of my country rise 
blooming to my imagination, clothed in the 
soft illusive charms of distance. I sigh, yet 
no one listens to the sigh of the captive : I 
ghed the bitter tear of recollection, but no one 
sympathizes in the tear of the turbaned stran- 
ger ! Think not, however, thou brother of 
my soul, that I complain of the horrors of my 
situation ; think not that my captivity is at- 
tended with the labours, the chains, the 
scourges, the insults, that render slavery, 
with us, more dreadful than the pangs of hesi- 
tating, lingering death. Light, indeed, are 
the restraints on the personal freedom of thy 
kinsman ; but who can enter into the afflic- 
tions of the mind ? who can describe the ago- 
nies of the heart ? They are mutable as the 
clouds of the air ; they are countless as the 
waves that divide me from my native country. 
I have, of late, my dear Asem, laboured 
under an inconvenience singularly unfortu- 
nate, and am reduced to a dilemma most ridi- 
culously embarrassing. Why should I hide 
it from the companion of my thoughts, the 
partner of my sorrows and my joys ? Alas ! 
Asem, thy friend Mustapha, the invincible 
captain of a ketch, is sadly in want of a pair 
of breeches ! Thou wilt doubtless smile, O, 
most grave Mussulman, to hear me indulge 
in such ardent lamentations about a circum- 
stance so trivial, and a want apparently so 
easy to be satisfied: but little canst thou 
know of the mortifications attending my ne- 
cessities, and the astonishing difficulty of 
supplying them. Honoured by the smiles 
and attentions of the beautiful ladies of this 
city, who have fallen in love with my whis- 
kers and my turban ; courted by the bashaws 
and the great men, who delight to have me 
at their feasts ; the honour of my company 
eagerly solicited by every fiddler who gives a 
concert ; think of my chagrin at being obliged 



to decline the host cf invitations that daily 
overwhelm me, merely for want of a pair of 
breeches ! Oh, Allah ! Allah ! that thy dis- 
ciples could come into the world all be- 
feathered like a bantam, or with a pair of 
leather breeches like the wild deer of the 
forest ! Surely, my friend, it is the destiny 
of man to be for ever subjected to petty evils, 
which, however trifling in appearance, prey 
in silence on his little pittance of enjoyment, 
and poison those moments of sunshine, which 
might otherwise be consecrated to happiness. 

The want of a garment, thou wilt say, is 
easily supplied; and thou mayest suppose 
need only be mentioned, to be remedied at 
once by any tailor of the land. Little canst 
thou conceive the impediments which stand 
in the way of my comfort, and still less art 
thou acquainted with the prodigious great 
scale on which every thing is transacted in 
this country. The nation moves most majes- 
tically slow and clumsy in the most trivial 
affairs, like the unwieldy elephant which 
makes a formidable difficulty of picking up a 
straw ! When I hinted my necessities to the 
officer who has charge of myself and my com- 
panions, I expected to have them forthwith 
relieved; but he made an amazingly long 
face ; told me that we were prisoners of state ; 
that we must therefore be clothed at the ex- 
pense of the government ; that as no provi- 
sion had been made by Congress for an emer- 
gency of the kind, it was impossible to fur- 
nish me with a pair of breeches, until all the 
sages of the nation had been convened to talk 
over the matter, and debate upon the expe- 
diency of granting my request. Sword of the 
immortal Khalid, thought I, but this is great ! 
this is truly sublime ! All the sages of an 
immense logocracy assembled together to talk 
about my breeches ! Vain mortal that I am ! 
I cannot but own I was somewhat reconciled 
to the delay which must necessarily attend 
this method of clothing me, by the considera- 
tion that if they made the affair a national 
act, my " name must of course be embodied 
in history," and myself and my breeches 
flourish to immortality in the annals of this 
mighty empire 1 

"But pray, Sir," said I, "how does it 
happen that a matter so insignificant should 
be erected into an object of such importance 



58 



SALMAGUNDI. 



as to employ the representative wisdom of the 
nation ? and what is the cause of their talking 
so much about a trifle ?" — Oh," replied the 
officer, who acts as our slave-driver, " it all 
proceeds from economy. If the government 
did not spend ten times as much money in 
debating whether it was proper to supply you 
with breeches, as the breeches themselves 
would cost, the people, who govern the ba- 
shaw and his divan, would straightway begin 
to complain of their liberties being infringed 
— the national finances squandered — not a 
hostile slang-whanger throughout the logo- 
cracy but would burst forth like a barrel of 
combustion — and ten chances to one but the 
bashaw and the sages of his divan would all 
be turned out of office together. My good 
Mussulman," continued he, " the adminis- 
tration have the good of the people too much 
at heart to trifle with their pockets ; and they 
would sooner assemble and talk away ten 
thousand dollars than expend fifty silently 
out of the treasury — such is the wonderful 
spirit of economy that pervades every branch 
of this government." — " But," said I, " how 
is it possible they can spend money in talk- 
ing ; surely words cannot be the current coin 
of this country?" — "Truly," cried he, 
smiling, " your question is pertinent enough, 
for words indeed often supply the place of 
cash among us, and many an honest debt is 
paid in promises ; but the fact is, the grand 
bashaw and the members of Congress, or 
grand talkers of the nation, either receive a 
yearly salary, or are paid by the day." — 
u By the nine hundred tongues of the great 
beast in Mahomet's vision, but the murder is 
out ! it is no wonder these honest men talk so 
much about nothing, when they are paid for 
talking like day-labourers." — " Your are mis- 
taken," said my driver ; " it is nothing but 
economy."* 

I remained silent for some minutes, for this 
inexplicable word economy always discomfits 
me ; and when I flatter myself I have grasped 
it, it slips through my fingers like a jack- 
o'lantcrn. I have not, nor perhaps ever shall 

* Some of our readers may not be aware, that the 
Members of the American Legislature are paid six 
dollars per diem for their attendance during their 
sittings, besides an allowance for travelling expenses. 
'-Edit. 



acquire, sufficient of the philosophic policy 
of this government, to draw a proper distinc- 
tion between an individual and a nation. If 
a man was to throw away a pound in order to 
save a beggarly penny, and boast at the same 
time of his economy, I should think him on 
a par with the fool in the fable of Alfanji ; 
who, in skinning a flint worth a farthing, 
spoiled a knife worth fifty times the sum, 
and thought he had acted wisely. The 
shrewd fellow would doubtless have valued 
himself much more highly on his economy, 
could he have known that his example would 
one day be followed by the bashaw of Ame- 
rica, and the sages of his divan. 

This economic disposition, my friend, occa- 
sions much fighting of the spirit, and innu- 
merable contests of the tongue in this talking 
assembly. Wouldst thou believe it ? they 
were actually employed for a whole week in 
a most strenuous and eloquent debate about 
patching up a hole in the wall of the room 
appropriated to their meetings ! A vast pro- 
fusion of nervous argument and pompous de- 
clamation was expended on the occasion. 
Some of the orators, I am told, being rather 
waggishly inclined, were most stupidly jocu- 
lar on the occasion ; but their waggery gave 
great offence, and was highly reprobated by 
the more weighty part of the assembly, who 
hold all wit and humour in abomination, and 
thought the business in hand much too solemn 
and serious to be treated lightly. It is sup- 
posed by some that this affair would have 
occupied a whole winter, as it was a subject 
upon which several gentlemen spoke who had 
never been known to open their lips in that 
place except to say yes and no. These silent 
members are by way of distinction denomi- 
nated orator mums, and are highly valued in 
this country on account of their great talents 
for silence — a qualification extremely rare in 
a logocracy. 

Fortunately for the public tranquillity, in 
the hottest part of the debate, when two ram- 
pant Virginians, brim-full of logic and philo- 
sophy, were measuring tongues, and syllogis- 
tically cudgelling each other out of their 
unreasonable notions, the president of the 
divan, a knowing old gentleman, one night 
slyly sent a mason with a hod of mortar, who 
in the course of a few minutes closed up the 



SALMAGUNDI. 



59 



hole, and put a final end to the argument. 
Thus did this wise old gentleman, by hitting 
on a most simple expedient, in all probability, 
save his country as much money as would 
build a gun-boat, or pay a hireling slang- 
whanger for a whole volume of words. As 
it happened, only a few thousand dollars were 
expended in paying these men, who are deno- 
minated, I suppose in derision, legislators. 

Another instance of their economy I relate 
with pleasure, for I really begin to feel a re- 
gard for these poor barbarians. They talked 
away the best part of a whole winter before 
they could determine not to expend a few 
dollars in purchasing a sword to bestow on 
an illustrious warrior; yes, Asem, on that 
very hero who frightened all our poor old 
women and young children at Derne, and 
fully proved himself a greater man than the 
mother that bore him.* Thus, my friend, 
is the whole collective wisdom of this mighty 
logocracy employed in somniferous debates 
about the most trivial affairs ; as I have some- 
times seen a Herculean mountebank exerting 
all his energies in balancing a straw upon 
hi3 nose. Their sages behold the minutest 
object with the microscopic eyes of a pismire; 
mole-hills swell into mountains, and a grain 
of mustard-seed will set the whole ant-hill in 
a hub-bub. Whether this indicates a capa- 
cious vision, or a diminutive mind, I leave 
thee to decide ; for my part I consider it as 
another proof of the great scale on which 
every thing is transacted in this country. 

I have before told thee that nothing can be 
done without consulting the sages of the na- 
tion, who compose the assembly called the 
Congress. This prolific body may not im- 
properly be called the " mother of inven- 
tions ;" and a most fruitful mother it is, let 
me tell thee, though its children are generally 
abortions. It has lately laboured with what 
was deemed the conception of a mighty navy. 
All the old women and the good wives that 
assist the bashaw in his emergencies hurried 
to head-quarters to be busy, like midwives, 
at the delivery. All was anxiety, fidgetting, 
and consultation ; when after a deal of groan- 
ing and struggling, instead of formidable first 
rates and gallant frigates, out crept a litter of 
ndrry little gun-boats ! These are most piti- 
* General Eaton. 



ful little vessels, partaking vastly of the cha- 
racter of the grand bashaw, who has the 
credit of begetting them ; being flat, shallow 
vessels that can only sail before the wind — 
must always keep in with the land — are con- 
tinually foundering or running ashore — and, 
in short, are only fit for smooth water. 
Though intended for the defence of the ma- 
ritime cities, yet the cities are obliged to de- 
fend them ; and they require as much nursing 
as so many ricketty little bantlings. They 
are, however, the darling pets of the grand 
bashaw, being the children of his dotage, and, 
perhaps, from their diminutive size and palp- 
able weakness, are called the " infant navy of 
America*" The act that brought them into 
existence was almost deified by the majority 
of the people as a grand stroke of economy. 
By the beard of Mahomet, but this word is 
truly inexplicable ! 

To this economic body, therefore, was I 
advised to address my petition, and humbly 
to pray that the august assembly of sages 
would, in the plenitude of their wisdom and 
the magnitude of their powers, munificently 
bestow on an unfortunate captive, a pair of 
cotton breeches ! " Head of the immortal 
Amrou," cried I, " but this would be pre- 
sumptuous to a degree. What ! after these 
worthies have thought proper to leave their 
country naked and defenceless, and exposed 
to all the political storms that rattle without, 
can I expect that they will lend a helping 
hand to comfort the extremities of a solitary 



capti 



My exclamation was only an- 



swered by a smile, and I was consoled by the 
assurance that, so far from being neglected, 
it was every way probable my breeches might 
occupy a whole session of the divan, and set 
several of the longest heads together by the 
ears. Flattering as was the idea of a whole 
nation being agitated about my breeches, yet 
I own I was somewhat dismayed at the idea 
of remaining in querpo, until all the national 
grey-beards should have made a speech on 
the occasion, and given their consent to the 
measure. The embarrassment and distress 
of mind which I experienced was visible in 
my countenance, and my guard, who is a 
man of infinite good nature, immediately 
suggested, as a more expeditious plan of sup- 
plying my wants, a benefit at the theatre. 



60 



SALMAGUNDI. 



Though profoundly ignorant of his meaning, 
I agreed to his proposition, the result of which 
I shall disclose to thee in another letter. 

Fare thee well, dear Asem ; in thy pious 
prayers to our great prophet, never forget 
to solicit thy friend's return; and when 
thou numberest up the many blessings be- 
stowed on thee by all-bountiful Allah, pour 
forth thy gratitude that he has cast thy nati- 
vity in a land where there is no assembly of 
legislative chatterers — no great bashaw, who 
bestrides a gun-boat for a hobby-horse — 
where the word economy is unknown — and 
where an unfortunate captive is not obliged 
to call upon the whole nation, to cut him out 
a pair of breeches. 

Ever thine, 

MuSTAPHA. 



I ROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, Esg. 
Though enter'd on that sober age, 
When men withdraw from fashion's stage. 
And leave the follies of the day, 
To shape their course a graver way ; 
Still those gay scenes I loiter round, 
In which my youth sweet transport found ; 
And though I feel their joys decay, 
And languish every hour away,— 
Yet like an exile doom'd to part, 
From the dear country of his heart, 
From the fair spot in which he sprung, 
Where his first notes of love were sung, 
Will often turn to wave the hand, 
And sigh his blessings on the land ; 
Just so my lingering watch I keep, 
Thus oft I take my farewell peep. 

And, like that pilgrim, who retreats 
Thus lagging from his parent seats, 
When the sad thought pervades his mind, 
That the fair land he leaves behind 
Is ravaged by a foreign foe, 
Its cities waste, its temples low, 
And ruined all those haunts of joy 
That gave him rapture when a boy ; 
Turns from it with averted eye, 
And while he heaves the anguish'd sigh, 
Scarce feels regret that the lov'd shore 
Shall beam upon his sight no more ; — 
Just so it grieves my soul to view, 
While breathing forth a fond adieu, 
The innovations pride has made, 
The fustian, frippery, and parade, 
That now usurp with mawkish grace 
Pure tranquil pleasure's wonted place ! 

'Twas joy we look'd for in my prime, 
That idol of the olden time ; 
When all our pastimes had the art 
To please, and not mislead, (he heart. 



Style cursed us not — that modern flash, 
That love of racket and of trash ; 
Which scares at once all feeling joys, 
And drowns delight in empty noise ; 
Which barters friendship, mirth, and truth, 
The artless air, the bloom of youth, 
And all those gentle sweets that swarm 
Round nature in their simplest form, 
For cold display, for hollow state, 
The trappings of the would-be great. 

Oh ! once again those days recall, 
When heart met heart in fashion's hall; 
When every honest guest would flock 
To add his pleasure to the stock, 
More fond his transports to express, 
Than show the tinsel of his dress ! 
These were the times that clasp 'd the soul 
In gentle friendship's soft control ; 
Our fair ones, unprofan'd by art, 
Content to gain one honest heart, 
No train of sighing swains desired, 
Sought to be loved and not admired. 
But now 'tis form, not love, unites ; 
'Tis show, not pleasure, that invites. 
Each seeks the ball to play the queen, 
To flirt, to conquer, to be seen ; 
Each grasps at universal sway, 
And reigns the idol of the day ,- 
Exults amid a thousand sighs, 
And triumphs when a lover dies. 
Each belle a rival belle surveys, 
Like deadly foe, with hostile gaze; 
Nor can her " dearest friend » caress, 
Till she has slyly scann'd her dress ; 
Ten conquests in one year will make, 
And six eternal friendships break 

How oft I breathe the inward sigh, 
And feel the dew-drop in my eye, 
When I behold some beauteous frame, 
Divine in every thing but name, 
Just venturing, in the tender age, 
On fashion's late new-fangled stage ! 
Where soon the guiltless heart shall cease 
To beat in artlessness and peace ; 
Where all the flowers of gay delight 
With which youth decks its prospects bright, 
Shall wither 'mid the cares, the strife, 
The cold realities of life ! 

Thus lately, in my careless mood, 
As I the world of fashion view'd 
While celebrating great and small, 
That grand solemnity, a ball, 
My roving vision chanced to light 
On two sweet forms, divinely bright, 
Two sister nymphs, alike in face, 
In mien, in loveliness, and grace; 
Twin rose buds, bursting into bloom, 
In all their brilliance and perfume ; 
Like those fair forms that often beam 
Upon the Eastern poet's dream ! 
For Eden had each lovely maid 
In native innocence arrayed, — 
And heaven itself had almost shed 
Its sacred halo round each head ! 



SALMAGUNDI. 



CI 



They seem'd, just entering hand in hand, 
To cautious tread this fairy land; 
To take a timid hasty view, 
Enchanted with a scene so new. 
The modest hlush, untaught by art, 
Bespoke their purity of heart ; 
And every timorous act unfurl 'd 
Two souls unspotted by the world. 

Oh, how these strangers joyed my sight, 
And thrill'd my bosom with delight ! 
They brought the visions of my youth 
Back to my soul in all their truth ; 
Recall'd fair spirits into day, 
That Time's rough hand had swept away. 
Thus the bright natives from above, 
Who come on messages of love, 
Will bless, at rare and distant whiles ,, 
Our sinful dwelling by their smiles. 

Oh ! my romance of youth is past- 
Dear airy dreams, too bright to last. 
Yet when such forms as these appear, 
I feel your soft remembrance here 
For, ah ! the simple poet's heart, 
On which fond love once play'd its part, 
Still feels the soft pulsations heat, 
As loth to quit their former seat : 
Just like the harp's melodious wire, 
Swept by a bard with heavenly fire — 
Though ceased the loudly swelling strain 
Yet sweet vibrations long remain. 

Full soon I found the lovely pair 
Had sprung beneath a mother's care, 
Hard by a neighb'ring streamlet's side, 
At once its ornament and pride. 
The beauteous parent's tender heart 
Had well fulfill'd its pious part ; 
And, like the holy man of old, 
As we're by sacred writings told, 
Who, when he from his pu; il sped, 
Pour'd two-fold blessings on his head : 
So this fond mother had imprest 
Her early virtues in each breast, 
And as she found her stock enlarge, 
Had stampt new graces on her charge. 

The fair resign'd the calm retreat, 
When first their souls in concert beat, 
And flew on expectations wing, 
To sip the joys of life's gay spring ; 
To sport in fashion's splendid maze, 
Where friendship fades, and love decays. 
So two sweet wild flowers, near the side 
Of some fair river's silver tide, 
Pure as the gentle stream that laves 
The green banks with its lucid waves, 
Bloom beauteous in their native ground, 
Diffusing heavenly fragrance round ; 
But should a venturous hand transfer 
These blossoms to the gay parterre, 
Where, spite of artificial aid, 
The fairest plants of nature fade, 
Though they may shine supreme awhile 
•Mid pale ones of the stranger soil, 



The tender beauties soon decay, 

And their sweet fragrance dies away. 

Blest spirits ! who, enthroned in air, 

Watch o'er the virtues of the fair, 

And with angelic ken survey, 

Their windings through life's chequer'd way ; 

Who hover round them as they glide 

Down fashion's smooth deceitful tide, 

And guard them o'er that stormy deep 

Where dissipation's tempest sweep : 

Oh ! make this inexperienced pair 

The objects of your tenderest care. 

Preserve them from the languid eye, 

The faded cheek, the long drawn sigh ; 

And let it be your constant aim 

To keep the fair ones still the same : 

Two sister hearts, unsullied, bright 

As the first beams of lucid light, 

That sparkled from the useful sun, 

When first his jocund race begun. 

So when these hearts shall burst their shrine, 

To wing their flight to realms divine, 

They may to radiant mansions rise 

Pure as when first they left the skies. 



No. 10. 



SATURDAY, MAY 1C, 180*/. 

FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

The long interval which has elapsed since 
the publication of our last number, like many 
other remarkable events, has given rise to 
much conjecture and excited considerable 
solicitude. It is but a day or two since I 
heard a knowing young gentleman observe, 
that he suspected Salmagundi would be a 
a nine days' wonder, and had even prophe- 
sied that the ninth would be our last effort. 
But the age of prophecy, as well as that of 
chivalry, is past ; and no reasonable man 
should now venture to foretell aught but 
what he is determined to bring about himself; 
— he may then, if he please, monopolize pre- 
diction, and be honoured as a prophet even 
in his own country. 

Though I hold whether we write, or not 
write, to be none of the public's business, 
yet as I have just heard of the loss of three 
thousand votes at least to the Clintonians, I 
feel in a remarkably dulcet humour there- 
upon, and will give some account of the 
reasons which induced us to resume our useful 
labours — or rather our amusements : for, if 
writing cost either of us a moment's labour, 
there is not a man but what would hang up 
his pen, to the great detriment of the world 



02 



SALMAGUNDI. 



at large, and of our publisher in particular ; 
who has actually bought himself a pair of 
trunk breeches, with the profits of our writ- 
ings ! ! 

He informs me that several persons having 
called last Saturday for No. 10, took the 
disappointment so much to heart that he 
really apprehended some terrible catastrophe ; 
and one good-looking man, in particular, de- 
clared his intention of quitting the country if 
the work was not continued. Add to this, 
the town has grown quite melancholy in the 
last fortnight ; and several young ladies have 
declared in my hearing, that if another num- 
ber did not make its appearance soon, they 
would be obliged to amuse themselves with 
teazing their beaux and making them miser- 
able. Now, I assure my readers, there was 
no flattery in this, for they no more suspected 
me of being Launcelot Langstaff, than they 
suspect me of being the Emperor of China, or 
the man in the moon. 

I have also received several letters com- 
plaining of our indolent procrastination ; and 
one of my correspondents assures me, that a 
number of young gentlemen, who had not 
read a book through since they had left, 
school, but who have taken a wonderful liking 
to our paper, will certainly relapse into their 
old habits unless we go on. 

For the sake, therefore, of all these good 
people ; and most especially for the satisfac- 
tion of the ladies, every one of whom we 
would love, if we possibly could, I have 
again wielded my pen with a most hearty 
determination to set the whole world to 
rights ; to make cherubim and seraphim of 
all the fair ones of this enchanting town, and 
raise the spirits of the poor federalists, who, 
in truth, seem to be in a sad taking, ever 
since the American-Ticket met with the 
accident of being so unhappily thrown out. 



TO LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, Esq. 
Sir, — I felt myself hurt and offended by 
Mr. Evergreen's terrible philippic against 
modern music, in No. 2, of your work, and 
was under serious apprehension that his stric- 
tures might bring the art, which I have the 
honour to profess, into contempt. The opi- 
nions of yourself and fraternity appear indeed 



to have a wonderful effect upon the town. I 
am told the ladies are all employed in reading 
Bunyan and Pamela, and the waltz has been 
entirely forsaken ever since the winter balls 
have closed. — Under these apprehensions I 
should have addressed you before, had I not 
been seduously employed, while the theatre 
continued open, in supporting the astonishing 
variety of the orchestra, and in composing a 
new chime or Bob-Major for Trinity-church, 
to be rung during the summer, beginning 
with ding-dong di-do, instead of di-do ding- 
dong. The citizens, especially those who 
live in the neighbourhood of that harmonious 
quarter, will no doubt be infinitely delighted 
with this novelty. 

But to the object of this communication. 
So far, Sir, from agreeing with Mr. Ever- 
green in thinking that all modern music h 
but the mere dregs and drainings of the an- 
cient, I trust, before this letter is concluded, 
I shall convince you and him that some of 
the late professors of this enchanting art have 
completely distanced the paltry efforts of the 
ancients ; and that I, in particular, have at 
length brought it almost to absolute per- 
fection. 

The Greeks, simple souls ! were astonished 
at the powers of Orpheus, who made the 
woods and rocks dance to his lyre — of Am- 
phion, who converted crotchets into bricks, 
and quavers into mortar — and of Arion, who 
won upon the compassion of the fishes. In 
the fervency of admiration, their poets fabled 
that Apollo had lent them his lyre, and in- 
spired them with his own spirit of harmony. 
What then would they have said had they 
witnessed the wonderful effects of my skill ? 
Had they heard me in the compass of a single 
piece, describe in glowing notes one of thj 
most sublime operations of nature, and not 
only make inanimate objects dance, but even 
speak; and not only speak, but speak in 
strains of exquisite harmony ? 

Let me not, however, be understood to say 
that I am the sole author of this extraordi- 
nary improvement in the art, for I confess I 
took the hint of many of my discoveries from 
some of those meritorious productions that 
have lately come abroad, and made so much 
noise under the title of overtures. — From some 
of these, as for instance, Lodoiska, and the 



SALMAGUNDI. 



63 



battle of Marengo, a gentleman, or a captain 
in the city militia, or an amazonian young 
lady, may indeed acquire a tolerable idea of 
military tactics, and become very well expe- 
rienced in the firing of musketry, the roaring 
of cannon, the rattling of drums, the whist- 
ling of fifes, braying of trumpets, groans of 
the dying, and trampling of cavalry, without 
ever going to the wars ; but it is more espe- 
cially in the art of imitating inimitable things, 
and giving the language of every passion and 
sentiment of the human mind, so as entirely 
to do away the necessity of speech, that I 
particularly excel the most celebrated musi- 
cians of ancient and modern times. 

I think, Sir, I may venture to say there is 
not a sound in the whole compass of nature 
which I cannot imitate, and even improve 
upon ; nay, what I consider the perfection of 
my art, I have discovered a method of ex- 
pressing, in the most striking manner, that 
undefinable, indescribable silence, which ac- 
companies the falling of snow. 

In order to prove to you that I do not arro- 
gate to myself what I am unable to perform, 
I will detail to you the different movements 
of a grand piece which I pride myself upon 
exceedingly, called the " Breaking up of the 
ice in the North -river." 

The piece opens with a gentle andante affe- 
tuoso, which ushers you into the assembly- 
room in the State-house at Albany, where 
the Speaker addresses his farewell speech, 
informing the members that the ice is about 
breaking up, and thanking them for their 
great services and good behaviour in a man- 
ner so pathetic as to bring tears into their 
eyes. — Flourish of Jacks-a-donkies. — Ice 
cracks ; Albany in a hubbub — air, " Three 
children sliding on the ice, all on a summer's 
day." — Citizens quarrelling in Dutch — chorus 
of a tin trumpet, a cracked fiddle, and a hand- 
saw ! — allegro moderate. — Hard frost : this, 
if given with proper spirit, has a charming 
effect, and sets every body's teeth chattering. 
Symptoms of snow — consultation of old wo- 
men who complain of pains in the bones, and 
rheumatics— air, " There was an old woman 

tossed up in a blanket," &c allegro staccato. 

— Waggon breaks into the ice — people all 
run to see what is the matter — air, siciliano. 
— " Can you row the boat ashore, Billy boy, 



Billy boy " — andante ; — frost fish froze up in 
the ice— air, " Ho, why dost thou shiver and 
shake, Gaffer Gray, and why does thy nose 
look so blue ?" — Flourish of two-penny trum- 
pets and rattles — consultation of the North- 
river society— determine to set the North-river 
on fire, as soon as it will burn — air, " O, 
what a fine kettle of fish." 

Part II — Great Thaw — This consists of 
the most melting strains, flowing so smoothly 
as to occasion a great overflowing of scientific 
rapture — air, " One misty moisty morning." 
— The house of assembly breaks up — air, 
" The owls came out and flew about." — As- 
sembly-men embark on their way to New- 
York — air, " The ducks and the geese they 
all swim over, fal de ral," &c. — Vessel sets 
sail — chorus of mariners, " Steer her up, and 
let her gang." — After this a rapid movement 
conducts you to New-York — the North-river 
society hold a meeting at the corner of Wall- 
street, and determine to delay burning till all 
the assembly-men are safe home, for fear of 
consuming some of their ov/n members who 
belong to that respectable body. — Return 

again to the capital Ice floats down the river 

— lamentation of skaters — air, affetuoso — 
"I sigh and lament me in vain," &c — Alba- 
nians cutting up sturgeon — air, " O, the roast 
beef of Albany." — Ice runs against Pclopoy's 
island, with a terrible crash : this is repre- 
sented by a fierce fellow travelling with his 
fiddle-stick over a huge bass-viol, at the rate 
of one hundred and fifty bars a minute, and 
tearing the music to rags — this being what is 
called execution. — The great body of ice 
passes West-point, and is saluted by three 
or four dismounted cannon from Fort Put- 
nam. — " Jefferson's march" by a full band — 
air, " Yankee doodle," with seventy-six va- 
riations, never before attempted, except by 
the celebrated eagle, which flutters his wings 
over the copper-bottomed angel at Messrs. 
Paff's, in Broadway. — Ice passes New-York 
— conch-shell sounds at a distance — ferryman 
calls o-v-e-r — people run down Courtlandt- 
street — ferry-boat sets sail — air, accompanied 
by the conch-shell, " We'll all go over the 
ferry." — Rondeau — giving a particular ac- 
count of Brom the Powles-hook admiral, who 
is supposed to be closely connected with the 
North-river society The society makes a 



64 



SALMAGUNDI. 



grand attempt to fire the stream, but are 
utterly defeated by a remarkably high tide, 
which brings the plot to light — drowns up- 
wards of a thousand rats, and oeeasions twenty 
robins to break their necks.* — Society not 
being discouraged, apply to " Common Sense" 
for his lantern — air, " Nose, nose, jolly red 
nose." — Flock of wild geese fly over the city 
. — old wives chatter' in the fog — cocks crow at 
Communipaw— drums beat on Governor's 

island The whole to conclude with the 

blowing up of Sands' powder-house. 

Thus, Sir, you perceive what wonderful 
powers of expression have been hitherto 
locked up in this enchanting art; — a whole 
history is here told without the aid of speech, 
or writing ; and provided the hearer is in the 
least acquainted with music he cannot mis- 
take a single note. As to the blowing up of 
the powder-house, I look upon it as a chef- 
d'oeuvre, which I am confident will delight all 
modern amateurs, who very properly estimate 
music in proportion to the noise it makes, 
and delight in thundering cannon and earth- 
quakes. 

I must confess, however, it is a difficult 
part to manage, and I have already broken 
six pianos in giving it the proper force and 
effect. But I do not despair, and am quite 
certain that by the time I have broken eight 
or ten more, I shall have brought it to such 
perfection, as to be able to teach any young 
lady of tolerable ear, to thunder it away to 
the infinite delight of papa and mamma, and 
the great annoyance of those Vandals, who 
are so barbarous as to prefer the simple melody 
of a Scots air to the sublime .effusions of mo- 
dern musical doctors. 

In my warm anticipations of future im- 
provement, I have sometimes almost con- 
vinced myself that music will in time be 
brought to such a elimax of perfection, as to 
supersede the necessity of speech and writing ; 
and every kind of social intercourse be con- 
ducted by the flute and fiddle. The immense 
benefits that will result from this improve- 
ment must be plain to every man of the least 
consideration -In the present unhappy situa- 
tion of mortals, a man has but one way of 
making himself perfectly understood : if he 
loses his speech, he must inevitably be dumb 
* Vide, Solomon Lang. 



all the rest of his life ; but having once learned 
this new musical language, the loss of speech 
will be a mere trifle, not Worth a moment's 
uneasiness. Not only this, Mr. L., but it 
will add much to the harmony of domestic 
intercourse; for it is certainly much more 
agreeable to hear a lady give lectures on the 
piano, than, viva voce, in the usual discordant 
measure. This manner of discoursing may 
also, I think, be introduced with great effect 
into our national assemblies, where every 
man, instead of wagging his tongue, should 
be obliged to flourish a fiddle-stick ; by which 
means, if he said nothing to the purpose, he 
would at all events " discourse most eloquent 
music," which is more than can be said of 
most of them at present. They might also 
sound their own trumpets without being 
obliged to a hireling scribbler, for an immor- 
tality of nine days, or subjected to the cen- 
sure of egotism. 

But the most important result of this dis- 
covery is, that it may be applied to the esta- 
blishment of that great desideratum, in the 
learned world, a universal language. Wherever 
this science of music is cultivated, nothing 
more will be necessary than a knowledge of 
its alphabet ; which being almost the same 
every where, will amount to a universal me- 
dium of communication. A man may thus 
— with his violin under his arm, a piece of 
rosin, and a few bundles of catgut — fiddle his 
way through the world, and never be at a loss 
to make himself understood. 
I am, &c. 

Demi Semiquaver. 



NOTE BY THE PUBLISHER, 

Without the knowledge or permission of the authors, 
and which, if he dared, he would have placed near 
where their remarks are made on the great difference 
of manners which exists between the sexes now, 
from what they did in the days of our grand-dames. 
The danger of that cheek by-jowl familiarity of the 
present day, must be obvious to many; and I think 
the following a strong example of one of its evils. 

Extracted from" The Mirror of the Graces" 

"I remember the Count M — — , one of 
the most accomplished and handsome young 
men in Vienna : when I was there, he was 
passionately- in love with a girl of almost 



SALMAGUNDI. 



peerless beauty. She was the daughter of a 
man of great rank, and great influence at 
Court ; and on these considerations, as well 
as in regard to her charms, she was followed 
by a multitude of suitors. She was lively 
and amiable, and treated them all with an 
affability which still kept them in her train, 
although it was generally known she had 

avowed a partiality for Count M ; and 

that preparations were making for their nup- 
tials The Count was of a refined mind, and 

a delicate sensibility : he loved her for herself 
alone; for the virtues which he believed 
dwelt in her beautiful form ; and, like a lover 
of such perfections, he never approached her 
without timidity : and when he touched her, 
a fire shot through his veins, that warned 
him not to invade the vermilion sanctuary of 
her lips. Such were his feelings, when, one 
evening, at his intended father-in-law's, a 
party of young people were met to celebrate 
a certain festival ; several of the young lady's 
rejected suitors were present. Forfeits were 
one of the pastimes, and all went on with 
the greatest merriment, till the Count was 
commanded, by some witty ManCselle, to 
redeem his glove by saluting the cheek of 
his intended bride. The Count blushed, 
trembled, advanced, retreated ; again ad- 
vanced to his mistress ; — and — at last — with 
a tremor that shook his whole soul, and every 
fibre of his frame, with a modest and diffident 
grace, he took the soft ringlet which played 
upon her cheek, pressed it to his lips, and re- 
tired to demand his redeemed pledge in the 
most evident confusion. His mistress gaily 
smiled, and the game went on. 

" One of her rejected suitors, who was of a 
merry, unthinking disposition, was adjudged 
by the same indiscreet crier of the forfeits as 
" his last treat before he hanged himself" to 
snatch a kiss from the object of his recent 
vows. A lively contest ensued between the 
gentleman and lady, which lasted for more 
than a minute ; but the lady yielded, though 
in the midst of a convulsive laugh. 

" The Count had the mortification — the 
agony — to see the lips, which his passionate 
and delicate love would not permit him to 
touch, kissed with roughness, and repetition, 
by another man — even by one whom he really 
despised. Mournfully and silently, without 
F 



a word, he rose from his chair — left the room 
and the house. By tnat good-natured kiss 
the fair boast of Vienna lost her lover — lost 
her husband. The Count never saw her 
more." 



No. 11, i 

TUESDAY, JULY 2, 1807^ 
LETTER 

FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI-KHAN 

Captain of a Ketch, to Asem Hacchem, prin- 
cipal slave-driver to his Highness the 
Bashaw of Tripoli, 
The deep shadows of midnight gather around 
me — the footsteps of the passengers have 
ceased in the streets, and nothing disturbs the 
holy silence of the hour, save tne sound of 
distant drums, mingled with the shouts, the 
bawlings, and the discordant revelry of his 
majesty, the sovereign mob. Let the hour be 
sacred to friendship, and consecrated to thee, 
oh, thou brother of the inmost soul ! 

Oh, Asem ! I almost shrink at the recol- 
lection of the scenes of confusion, of licentious 
disorganization, which I have witnessed during 
the last three days. I have beheld this whole 
city, nay, this whole state, given up to 
the tongue and the pen — to the puffers, the 
bawlers, the babblers, and the slang-whangers. 
I have beheld the community convulsed with 
a civil war, or civil talk — individuals ver- 
bally massacred — families annihilated by 
whole sheets full — and slang-whangers coolly 
bathing their pens in ink, and rioting in the 
slaughter of their thousands. I have seen, 
in short, that awful despot, the people, in the 
moment of unlimited power wielding news- 
papers in one hand, and with the other scat- 
tering mud and filth about, like some despe- 
rate lunatic relieved from the restraints of his 
strait-waistcoat. I have seen beggars on 
horseback, ragamuffins riding in coaches, and 
swine seated in places of honour. I have 
seen liberty ! I have seen equality i I have 
seen fraternity ! I have seen that great poli- 
tical puppet-show— AN ELECTION. 

A few days ago the friend, whom I have 
mentioned in some of my former letters, call- 
ed upon me to accompany him to witness this 
grand ceremony ; and we forthwith sallied 
out to the polls, as he called them. Though, 



m 



SALMAGUNDI. 






for several weeks before this splendid exhibi- 
tion, nothing else had been talked of, yet I 
do assure thee I was entirely ignorant of its 
nature ; and when, on coming up to a church, 
my companion informed me we were at the 
poll, I supposed that an election was some 
great religious ceremony like the fast of Ra- 
mazan, or the great festival of Haraphat, so 
celebrated in the east. 

My friend, however, undeceived me at 
once, and entered into a long dissertation on 
the nature and object of an election, the sub- 
stance of which was nearly to this effect : 
" You know,'' said he, " that this country 
is engaged in a violent internal warfare, and 
suffers a variety of evils from civil dissen- 
tions. An election is the grand trial of 
strength, the decisive battle when the belli- 
gerents draw out their forces in martial array; 
when every leader burning with warlike ar- 
dour, and encouraged by the shouts and ac- 
clamations of tatterdemalions, buffoons, de- 
pendents, parasites, toad-eaters, scrubs, va- 
grants, mumpers, ragamuffins, bravoes, and 
beggars, in his rear ; and puffed up by his 
bellows-blowing slang-whangers, waves gal- 
lantly the banners of faction, and presses 
forward to office and immortality. 

" For a month or two previous to the criti- 
cal period which is to decide this important 
affair, the whole community is in a ferment. 
Every man of whatever rank or degree, such 
is the wonderful patriotism of the people, 
disinterestedly neglects his business, to de- 
vote himself to his country ; — and not an in- 
significant fellow, but feels himself inspired, 
on this occasion, with as much warmth in 
favour of the cause he has espoused, as if all 
the comfort of his life, or even his life itself, 
was dependent on the issue. Grand councils 
of war are, in the first place, called by the 
different powers, which are dubbed general 
meetings, where all the head workmen of the 
party collect, and arrange the order of battle 
—appoint the different commanders, and their 
subordinate instruments, and furnish the 
funds indispensable for supplying the ex- 
penses of the war. Inferior councils are next 
called in the different classes or wards, con- 
sisting of young cadets, who are candidates 
for office ; idlers who come there from mere 
curiosity; and orators who appear for the 



purpose of detailing all the crimes, the faults, 
or the weaknesses of their opponents, and 
speaking the sense of the meeting, as it is 
called ; for as the meeting generally consists 
of men whose quota of sense, taken indivi- 
dually, would make but a poor figure, these 
orators are appointed to collect it all in a 
lump, when, I assure you, it makes a very 
formidable appearance, and furnishes suffi- 
cient matter to spin an oration of two or three 
hours. 

" The orators who declaim at these meet- 
ings are, with a few exceptions, men of most 
profound and perplexed eloquence, who are 
the oracles of barbers' shops, market places, 
and porter houses, and whom you may see 
every day at the corner of the street, taking 
honest men prisoners Dy the button, and talk- 
ing their ribs quite bare, without mercy and 
without end. These orators, in addressing 
an audience, generally mount a chair, a table, 
or an empty beer barrel — which last is sup- 
posed to afford considerable inspiration — and 
thunder away their combustible sentiments at 
the heads of the audience, who are generally 
so busily employed in smoking, drinking, 
and hearing themselves talk, that they seldom 
hear a word of the matter. This, however, 
is of little moment ; for as they come there 
to agree at all events to a certain set of reso- 
lutions, or articles of war, it is not at all 
necessary to hear the speech, more especially 
as few would understand it if they did. Do 
not suppose, however, that the minor per- 
sons of the meeting are entirely idle : besides 
smoking and drinking, which are generally 
practised, there are few who do not come 
with as great a desire to talk as the orator 
himself; each has his little circle of listeners, 
in the midst of whom he sets his hat on one 
side of his head, and deals out matter-of-fact 
information, and draws self-evident conclu- 
sions, with the pertinacity of a pedant, and to 
the great edification of his gaping auditors. 
Nay, the very urchins from the nursery, who 
are scarcely emancipated from the dominion 
of birch, on these occasions, strut pigmy 
great men — bellow for the instruction of grey- 
bearded ignorance, and, like the frog in the 
fable, endeavour to puff themselves up to the 
size of the great object of their emulation— 
the principal orator." 



SALMAGUNDI. 



67 



* c But is it not preposterous to a degree," 
cried I, " for those puny whipsters to attempt 
to lecture age and experience ? They should 
be sent to school to learn better." " Not at 
all," replied my friend ; " for as an election 
is nothing more than a war of words, the, 
man that can wag his tongue with the greatest 
elasticity, whether he speaks to the purpose 
or not, is entitled to lecture at ward-meetings 
and polls, and instruct all who are inclined 
to listen to him. You may have remarked a 
ward-meeting of politic dogs, where, although 
the great dog is, ostensibly, the leader, and 
makes the most noise, yet every little scoun- 
drel of a cur has something to say, and in 
proportion to his insignificance, fidgets, and 
worries, and puffs about mightily, in order 
to obtain the notice and approbation of his 
betters. Thus it is with these little, beard- 
less, bread-and-butter politicians who, on 
this occasion, eseape from the jurisdiction of 
their mammas to attend to the affairs of the 
nation : you will see them engaged in dread- 
ful wordy contest with old cartmen, cobblers, 
and tailors, and plume themselves not a little 
if they should chance to gain a victory. 
Aspiring spirits ! how interesting are the first 
dawnings of political greatness ! An elec- 
tion, my friend, is a nursery or hot-bed of 
genius in a logocracy ; and I look with en- 
thusiasm on a troop of these Liliputian par- 
tizans, as so many chatterers, and orators, 
and puffers, and slang-whangers in embryo, 
who, will one day take an important part 
in the quarrels and wordy wars of their 
country. 

44 As the time for fighting the decisive 
battle approaches, appearances become more 
and more alarming ; committees are appoint- 
ed, who hold little encampments, from whence 
they send out small detachments of tattlers 
to reconnoitre, harass, and skirmish with 
the enemy, and, if possible, ascertain their 
numbers ; every body seems big with the 
mighty event that is impending : the great 
orators gradually swell up beyond their usual 
size ; the little orators grow greater and 
greater ; the secretaries of the ward commit- 
tees strut about looking like wooden oracles ; 
the puffers put on the airs of mighty conse- 
quence ; the slang-whangers deal out direful 
inuendoes, and threats of doughty import ; — 
F 2 



and all is buzz, murmur, suspense, and sub- 
limity ! 

44 At length the day arrives. The storm 
that has been so long gathering and threaten- 
ing in distant thunders, bursts forth in ter- 
rible explosion : all business is at an end ; 
the whole city is in a tumult ; the people are 
running helter-skelter, they know not whither, 
and they know not why ; the hackney-coaches 
rattle through the streets with thundering ve- 
hemence, loaded with recruiting sergeants, 
who have been prowling in cellars and caves, 
to unearth some miserable minion of poverty 
and ignorance, who will barter hi3 vote for a 
glass of beer, or a ride in a coach with such 
fine gentlemen ! — the buzzards of the party 
scamper from poll to poll, on foot or on 
horseback ; and they worry from committee 
to committee, and buzz, and fume, and talk 
big, and — do nothing : like the vagabond 
drone, who wastes his time in the laborious 
idleness of seesaw-song, and busy nothing- 
ness." 

I know not how long my friend would have 
continued his detail, had he not been inter- 
rupted by a squabble which took place be- 
tween two old continentals, as they were 
called. It seems they had entered into an 
argument on the respective merits of their 
cause, and not being able to make each other 
clearly understood, resorted to what is called 
knock-down arguments, which form the su- 
perlative degree of argumentum ad hominem; 
but are, in my opinion, extremely inconsis* 
tent with the true spirit of a genuine logo- 
cracy. After they had beaten each other 
soundly, and set the whole mob together by 
the ears, they came to a full explanation ; 
when h was discovered that they were both of 
the same way of thinking ; — whereupon they 
shook each other heartily by the hand, and 
laughed with great glee at their humorous 
misunderstanding. 

I could not help being struck with the ex- 
ceeding great number of ragged, dirty look- 
ing persons that swaggered about the place, 
and seemed to think themselves the bashaws 
of the land. I inquired of my friend if 
these people were employed to drive away the 
hogs, dogs, and other intruders that might 
thrust themselves in and interrupt the cere- 
mony ?— 4 ' By no means," replied he ; " these 



SALMAGUNDI. 



are the representatives of the sovereign peo- 
ple, who come here to make governors, sena- 
tors, and members of Assembly, and are the 
source of all power and authority in this na- 
tion." — " Preposterous !" said I ; " how is 
it possible that such men can be capable of 
distinguishing between an honest man and a 
knave ; or even if they were, will it not 
always happen that they are led by the nose 
by some intriguing demagogue, and made the 
mere tools of ambitious political jugglers ? 
Surely it would be better to trust to Provi- 
dence, or even to chance, for governors, than 
•resort to the discriminating powers of an igno- 
rant mob. — I plainly perceive the consequence. 
A roan, who possesses superior talents, and 
that honest pride which ever accompanies this 
possession, will always be sacrificed to some 
creeping insect who will prostitute himself to 
familiarity with the lowest of mankind, and, 
like the idolatrous Egyptian, worship the 
wallowing tenants of filth and mire." 

" All this is true enough," replied my 
friend ; " but after all you cannot say but 
that this is a free country, and that the peo- 
ple can get drunk cheaper here, particularly 
at elections, than in the despotic countries of 
the east." I could not, with any degree of 
propriety or truth, deny this last assertion ; 
for just at that moment a patriotic brewer 
arrived with a load of beer, which, for a 
moment, occasioned a cessation of argument. 
The great crowd of buzzards, puffers, and 
" old continentals " of all parties, who throng 
to the polls, to persuade, to cheat, or to force 
the freeholders into the right way, and to 
maintain the freedom of suffrage, seemed for 
a moment to forget their antipathies, and 
joined heartily in a copious libation of this 
patriotic and argumentative beverage. 

These beer-barrels, indeed, seem to be 
most able logicians, well stored with that 
kind of sound argument best suited to the 
comprehension, and most relished by the 
mob or sovereign people, who are never so 
tractable as when operated upon by this con- 
vincing liquor, which, in fact, seems to be 
imbued with the very spirit of a logocracy : 
no sooner does it begin its operation, than 
the tongue waxes exceedingly valorous, and 
becomes impatient for some mighty conflict. 
The puffer puts himself at the head of his 



Dcdy-guard. of buzzards and hfo legion of 
ragamuffins, and woe then to every unhappy 
adversary who is uninspired by the deity of 
the beer-barrel — he is sure to be talked and 
argued into complete insignificance. 

While I was making these observations, I 
was surprised to observe a bashaw, high in 
office, shaking a fellow by the hand, that 
looked rather more ragged than a scare-crow, 
and inquiring with apparent solicitude con- 
cerning the health of his family ; after which 
he slipped a little folded paper into his hand, 
and turned away. I could not help applaud- 
ing his humility in shaking the fellow's hand, 
and his benevolence in relieving his dis- 
tresses, for I imagined the paper contained 
something for the poor man's necessities; 
and truly he seemed verging towards the last 
stage of starvation. My friend, however, 
soon undeceived me, by saying that this 
was an elector, and the bashaw had merely 
given him the list of candidates for whom he 
was to vote. " Ho ! ho !" said I, " then he 
is a particular friend of the bashaw ?" " By 
no means," replied my friend, " the bashaw 
will pass him without notice the day after 
the election, except, perhaps, just to drive 
over him with his coach. 

My friend then proceeded to inform me, 
that for some time before, and during the 
continuance of an election, there was a most 
delectable courtship, or intrigue, carried on 
between the great bashaws and mother mob. 
That mother mob generally preferred the 
attentions of the rabble, or of fellows of her 
own stamp ; but would sometimes conde- 
scend to be treated to a feasting, or any thing 
of that kind, at the bashaw's expense : nay, 
sometimes when she was in good humour, 
she would condescend to toy with them in 
her rough way ; but wo be to the bashaw 
who attempted to be familiar with her, for 
she was the most pestilent, cross, crabbed, 
scolding, thieving, scratching, toping, wrong- 
headed, rebellious, and abominable termagant 
that ever was let loose in the world, to the 
confusion of honest gentlemen bashaws. 

Just then, a fellow came round and distri- 
buted among the crowd a number of hand- 
bills, written by the ghost of Washington, 
the fame of whose illustrious actions, and 
still more illustrious virtues, has reached even 



SALMAGUNDI. 



m 



the remotest regions of the east, and who is 
venerated by this people as the Father of his 
country. On reading this paltry paper, I 
could not restrain my indignation. " Insulted 
hero," cried I, " is it thus thy name is 
profaned — thy memory disgraced — thy spirit 
drawn down from heaven to administer to the 
brutal violence of party rage ! — It is thus the 
necromancers of the east, by their infernal 
incantations, sometimes call up the shades of 
the just, to give their sanction to frauds, to 
lies, and to every species of enormity." My 
friend smiled at my warmth, and observed, 
that raising ghosts, and not only raising 
them but making them speak, was one of the 
miracles of election. " And believe me," 
continued he, " there is good reason for the 
ashes of departed heroes being disturbed on 
these occasions, for such is the sandy founda- 
tion of our government, that there never 
happens an election of an alderman, or a 
collector, or even a constable, but we are in 
imminent danger of losing our liberties, and 
becoming a province of France, or tributary 
to the British islands." " By the hump of 
Mahomet's camel," said I, " but this is only 
another striking example of the prodigious 
great scale on which every thing is transacted 
in this country I" 

By this time I had become tired of ihe 
scene ; my head ached with the uproar of 
voices, mingling in all the discordant tones 
of triumphant exclamation, nonsensical argu- 
ment, intemperate reproach, and drunken 
absurdity. The confusion was such as no 
language can adequately describe; and it 
seemed as if all the restraints, of decency, 
and all the bonds of law, had been broken 
and given place to the wide ravages of licen,- 
tious brutality. These, thought I, are the 
orgies of liberty ! — these are the manifesta- 
tions of the spirit of independence ! — these 
are the symbols of man's sovereignty !— 
Head of Mahomet ! — with what a fatal and 
inexorable despotism do empty names and 
ideal phantoms exercise their dominion over 
the human mind ! The experience of ages 
has demonstrated, that in all nations, barba- 
rous or enlightened, the mass of the people, 
the mob, must be slaves, or they will be 
tyrants ; but their tyranny will not be long : 
some ambitious leader, having at first con- 



descended to he their slave, will at length 
become their master; and in proportion to 
the vileness of his former servitude will be 
the severity of his subsequent tyranny. — Yet, 
with innumerable examples staring them in 

the face, the people still bawl out liberty by 

which they mean nothing but freedom from 
every species of legal restraint, and a warrant 
for all kinds of licentiousness : and the 
bashaws and leaders, in courting the mob, 
convince them of their power ; and by admi- 
nistering to their passions, for the purposes 
of ambition, at length learn by fatal ex- 
perience, that he who worships the beast that 
carries him on its back, will sooner or later 
be thrown into the dust and trampled under 
foot by the animal who has learnt the secret 
of its power, by this very adoration. 
Ever thine, 

Mu STAPH A. 



MINE UNCLE JOHN. 

FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

To those whose habits of abstraction may 
have let them into some of the secrets of their 
own minds, and whose freedom from daily 
toil has left them at leisure to analyze their 
feelings, it will be nothing new to say that 
the present is peculiarly the season of remem- 
brance. The flowers, the zephyrs, and the. 
warblers of 'spring, returning after their 
tedious absence, bring naturally to our recol- 
lection past times and buried feelings ; and 
the whispers of the full-foliaged grove, fall 
on the ear of contemplation, like the sweet 
tones of far-distant friends, whom the rude 
jostles of the world have severed from us, and 
cast far beyond our reach. It is at such times 
that casting backward many a lingering look 
we recall, with a kind of sweet-souled melan- 
choly, the days of our youth, and the jocund 
companions who started with us the race of 
life, but parted midway in the journey to 
pursue some winding path that allured them 
with a prospect more seducing — and never 
returned to us again. It is- then too, if we 
have been afflicted with any heavy sorrow, if 
we have even lost — and who has not ? — an 
old friend, or chosen companion, that his 
shade will hover around us ; the memory of 



70 



SALMAGUNDI. 



his virtues press on the heart ; and a thou- 
sand endearing recollections, forgotten amidst 
the cold pleasures and midnight dissipations 
of winter, arise to our remembrance. 

These speculations bring to my mind my 
Uncle John, the history of whose loves, 
and disappointments, I have promised to the 
world. Though I must own myself much 
addicted to forgetting my promises, yet, as 
I have been so happily reminded of this, 
I believe I must pay it at once, " and there 
an end." Lest my readers, good-natured 
souls that they are ! should, in the ardour of 
peeping into millstones, take my uncle for an 
old acquaintance, I here inform them, that 
the old gentleman died a great many years 
ago, and it is impossible they should ever 
have known him:— I pity them — for they 
would have known a good-natured, benevolent 
man, whose example might have been of 
service. 

The last time I saw my uncle John was 
fifteen years ago, when I paid him a visit at 
his old mansion. I found him reading a 
newspaper — for it was election time, and he 
was always a warm federalist, and had made 
several converts to the true political faith in 
his time, particularly one old tenant, who 
always, just before the election, became a 
violent anti, in order that he might be con- 
vinced of his errors by my uncle, who never 
failed to reward his conviction by some sub- 
stantial benefit. 

After we had settled the affairs of the 
nation, and I had paid my respects to the old 
family chronicles in the kitchen — an indis- 
pensable ceremony — the old gentleman ex- 
claimed, with heart-felt glee, "Well, I 
suppose you are for a trout-fishing : I have 
got every thing prepared, but first you must 
take a walk with me to see my improvements." 
I was obliged to consent, though I knew my 
uncle would lead me a most villanous dance, 
and in all probability treat me to a quagmire, 
or a tumble into a ditch. — If my readers 
choose to accompany me in this expedition, 
they are welcome ; if not, let them stay at 
home like lazy fellows — and sleep — or be 
hanged. 

Though I had been absent several years, 
yet there was very little alteration in the 
scenery, and every object retained the same 



features it bore when I was a school-boy ; 
for it was in this spot that I grew up in the 
fear of ghosts, and in the breaking of many 
of the ten commandments. The brook, or 
river as they would call it in Europe, still 
murmured with its wonted sweetness through 
the meadow, and its banks were still tufted 
with dwarf willows, that bent down to the 
surface. The same echo inhabited the valley, 
and the same tender air of repose pervaded 
the whole scene. Even my good uncle was 
but little altered, except that his hair was 
grown a little greyer, and his forehead had lost 
some of its former smoothness. He had, 
however, lost nothing of his former activity, 
and laughed heartily at the difficulty I found 
m keeping up with him as he stumped 
through bushes, and briers, and hedges ; 
talking all the time about his improvements, 
and telling what he would do with such a 
spot of ground and such a tree. At length, 
after showing me his stone-fences, his famous 
two-year-old bull, his new invented cart, 
which was to go before the horse, and his 
Eclipse colt, he was pleased to return home 
to dinner. 

After dining and returning thanks, — which 
with him was not a ceremony merely, but an 
offering from the heart, — my uncle opened 
his trunk, took out his fishing-tackle, and, 
without saying a word, sallied forth with 
some of those truly alarming steps which 
Daddy Neptune once took when he was in a 
great hurry to attend to the affair of the 
siege of Troy. Trout-fishing was my uncle's 
favourite sport} and though I always caught 
two fish to his one, he never would acknow- 
ledge my superiority; but puzzled himself 
often, and often, to account for such a singu- 
lar phenomenon. 

Following the current of the brook, for a 
mile or two, we retraced many of our old 
haunts, and told a hundred adventures which 
had befallen us at different times. It was 
like snatching the hour-glass of time, invert- 
ing it, and rolling back again the sands that 
had marked the lapse of years. At length 
the shadows began to lengthen, the south 
wind gradually settled into a perfect calm, 
the sun threw his rays through the trees 
on the hill-tops in golden lustre, and a kind 
of Sabbath stillness pervaded the whole val- 



SALMAGUNDI. 



71 



ley, indicating that the hour was fast ap- 
proaching which was to relieve for a while, 
the farmer from his rural labour, the ox from 
his toil, the school urchin from his primer, 
and bring the loving ploughman home to the 
feet of his blooming dairy-maid. 

As we were watching in silence the last 
rays of the sun, beaming their farewell 
radiance on the high hills at a distance, my 
uncle exclaimed, in a kind of half desponding 
tone, while he rested his arm over an old 
tree that had fallen — " I know not bow it 
is, my dear Launce, but such an evening, 
and sue\ 8 still quiet scene as this, al- 
ways ro&He me a little sad ; and it is at 
such a time I am most apt to look forward 
with regret to the period when this farm, on 
which " I have been young, but now am 
old," and every object around me that is 
endeared by long acquaintance, — when all 
these and I must shake hands and part. I 
have no fear of death, for my life has afforded 
but little temptation to wickedness ; and 
when I die, I hope to leave behind me more 
substantial proofs of virtue than will be found 
in my epitaph, and more lasting memorials 
than churches built or hospitals endowed 
with wealth wrung from the hard hand of 
poverty, by an unfeeling landlord, or unprin- 
cipled knave ; — but still when I pass such a 
day as this, and contemplate such a scene, I 
cannot help feeling a latent wish to linger yet 
a little longer in this peaceful asylum; to 
enjoy a little more sunshine in this world, 
and to have a few more fishing matches with 
my boy." As he ended he raised his hand a 
little from the fallen tree, and dropping it 
languidly by his side, turned himself towards 
home. The sentiment, the look, the action, 
all seemed to be prophetic. — And so they 
were, for when I shook him by the hand and 
bade him farewell the next morning — it was 
for the last time ! 

He died a bachelor, at the age of sixty- 
three, though he had been all his life trying 
to get married, and always thought himself 
on the point of accomplishing his wishes. 
His disappointments were not owing either 
to the deformity of his mind or person ; for 
in his youth he was reckoned handsome, and 
I my»elf can witness for him that he had as 
kind a heart as ever was fashioned by heaven ; 



neither were they owing to his poverty,— 
which sometimes stands in an honest man's 
way, — for he was born to the inheritance of a 
small estate, which was sufficient to establish 
his claim to the title of " one well to do in 
the world." The truth is, my uncle had a 
prodigious antipathy to doing things in a 
hurry. — "A man should consider," said he 
to me once, " that he can always get a wife, 
but cannot always get rid of her. For my 
part," continued he, "I am a young fellow 
with the world before me (he was about forty ! ) 
and am resolved to look sharp, weigh matters 
well, and know what's what before I marry : 
in short, Launce, / don't intend to do the 
thing in a hurry, depend upon it." On 
this whim-wham, he proceeded: he began 

with young girls, and ended with widows 

The girls he courted until they grew old 
maids, or married out of pure apprehension 
of incurring certain penalties hereafter ; — 
and the widows not having quite as much 
patience, generally, at the end of a year, 
while the good man thought himself in the 
high road to success, married some harum- 
scarum young fellow, who had not such an 
antipathy to do things in a hurry. 

My uncle would inevitably have sunk 
under these repeated disappointments — for he 
did not want sensibility — had he not hit upon 
a discovery which set all to rights at once. 
He consoled his vanity — for he was a little 
vain — and soothed his pride, which was his 
master passion — by telling his friends very 
significantly, while his eye would flash 
triumph, " that he might have had her." 
Those who know how much of the bitterness 
of disappointed affection arises from wounded 
vanity and exasperated pride, will give my 
uncle credit for this discovery. 

My uncle had been told by a prodigious 
number of married men, and had read in an 
innumerable quantity of books, that a man 
could not possibly be happy except in the 
marriage state ; so he determined at an early 
age to marry, that he might not lose his only 
chance for happiness. He accordingly forth- 
with paid his addresses to the daughter of a 
neighbouring gentleman farmer, who was 
reckoned the beauty of the old world — a 
phrase by which the honest country people 
mean nothing more than the circle of their 



ft 



SALMAGUNDI. 



Acquaintance, or that territory of land which 
is within sight of the smoke of their own 
hamlet. 

This young lady, in addition to her "beauty, 
was highly accomplished, for she had spent 
five or six months at a hoarding-school in 
town, where she learned to work pictures in 
satin, and paint sheep that might be mistaken 
for wolves ; to hold up her head, sit straight 
in a chair, and to think every species of use- 
ful acquirement beneath her attention— 
When she returned home, so completely had 
she forgotten every thing she knew before, 
that on seeing one of the maids milking a 
cow, she asked her father with an air of most 
enchanting ignorance, " what that odd look- 
ing thing was doing to that queer animal ?" 
The old man shook his head at this ; but 
the mother was delighted at these symptoms 
of gentility, and so enamoured of her daugh- 
ter's accomplishments, that she actually got 
framed a picture worked in satin by the young 
lady. It represented the tomb scene in Romeo 
and Juliet : Romeo was dressed in an 
orange-coloured cloak, fastened round his 
neck with a large golden clasp ; a white satin 
tamboured waistcoat, leather breeches, blue 
silk stockings, and white topped hoots. The 
amiable Juliet shone in a flame-coloured 
gown, most gorgeously bespangled with 
silver stars, a high-crowned muslin cap that 
reached to the top of the tomb ; — on her feet 
she wore a pair of short-quartered high- 
heeled shoes, and her waist was the exact 
fac-simile of an inverted sugar loaf. The 
head of the "noble county Paris" looked 
like a chimney-sweep's brush that had lost 
its handle ; and the cloak of the good friar 
hung about him as gracefully as the armour 
of a rhinoceros. The good lady considered 
this picture as a splendid proof of her daugh- 
ter's accomplishments, and hung it up in the 
best parlour, as an honest tradesman does his 
certificate of admission into that enlightened 
body yclept the Mechanic Society. 

With this accomplished young lady, then, 
did my uncle John become deeply ena- 
moured ; and as it was his first love, he 
determined to bestir himself in an extraordi- 
nary manner. Once at least in a fortnight, 
and generally on a Sunday evening, he would 
put on his leather breeches (for he was a 



great beau), mount his grey horse' Pepper, 
and ride over to see Miss Pamela, though 
she lived upwards of a mile off, and he was 
obliged to pass close by a church-yard, which 
at least a hundred creditable persons would 
swear was haunted. Miss Pamela could not 
be insensible to such proofs of attachment, 
and accordingly received him with consider- 
able kindness ; her mother always left the 
room when he came— and my uncle had as 
good as made a declaration by saying one 
evening, very significantly, "that he believed 
that he should soon change his condition ;" 
when, some how or other, he began to think 
he was doing things in too great a hurry, and 
that it was high time to consider ; so he con- 
sidered near a month about it, and there is no 
saying how much longer he might have spun 
the thread of his doubts, had he not been 
roused from this state of indecision, by the 
news that his mistress had married an attor- 
ney's apprentice, whom she had seen the 
Sunday before at church, where he had ex- 
cited the applauses of the whole congregation 
by the invincible gravity with which he 
listened to a Dutch sermon. The young 
people in the neighbourhood laughed a good 
deal at my uncle on the occasion ; but he 
only shrugged his shoulders, looked mys- 
terious, and replied, " Tut, boys ! I might 
have had her.''''* 



No. 12. 
SATURDAY, JUNE 27, 1807- 

FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

Some men delight in the study of plants, 
in the dissection of a leaf, or the contour and 
complexion of a tulip ; others are charmed 
with the beauties of the feathered race, or the 

Note by William Wizard, Esq. 
* Our publisher, who is busily engaged in printing 
a celebrated work, which is perhaps more generally 
read in this city than any other book, not excepting 
the Bible— I mean the New York Directory— has 
begged so hard that we would not overwhelm him 
with too much of a good thing, that we hare, with 
Langstaff's approbation, cut short the residue of 
uncle John's amours. In all probability it will be 
given in a future number, whenever Launcelot is in 
the humour for it ; he is such an odd-but mum, for 
fear of anotl^r suspension. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



1?> 



varied hues of the insect tribe. A naturalist 
will spend hours in the fatiguing pursuit of a 
butterfly ; and a man of the ton will waste 
whole years in the chase of a fine lady. I 
feel a respect for their avocations, for my own 
are somewhat similar. I love to open the 
great volume of human character : to me the 
examination of a beau is more interesting 
than that of a daffodil or Narcissus ; and I 
feel a thousand times more pleasure in catch- 
ing a new view of human nature, than in 
kidnapping the most gorgeous butterfly- 
even an Emperor of Morocco himself. 

In my present situation I have ample room 
for the indulgence of this taste ; for perhaps 
there is not a house in this city more fertile 
in subjects for the anatomists of human cha- 
racter, than my cousin Cockloft's. Honest 
Christopher, as I have before mentioned, is 
one of those hearty old cavaliers who pride 
themselves upon keeping up the good, honest, 
unceremonious hospitality of old times. He 
is never so happy as when he has drawn about 
him a knot of sterling-hearted associates, and 
sits at the head of his table, dispensing a 
warm, cheering welcome to all. His counte- 
nance expands at every glass, and beams forth 
emanations of hilarity, benevolence, and good 
fellowship, that inspire and gladden every 
guest around him. It is no wonder, there- 
fore, that such excellent social qualities should 
attract a host of guests ; in fact, my cousin 
is almost overwhehned with them ; and they 
all, uniformly, pronounce old Cockloft to be 
one of the finest old fellows in the world. 
His wine also always comes in for a good share 
of their approbation ; nor do they forget to do 
honour to Mrs. Cockloft's cookery, pronoun- 
cing it to be modelled after the most approved 
recipes of Heliogabalus and Mrs. Glasse. 
The variety of company thus attracted is par- 
ticularly pleasing to ne ; for being considered 
a privileged person in the family, I can sit in 
a corner, indulge in my favourite amusement 
of observation, and retreat to my elbow-chair, 
like a bee to his hive, whenever I have col- 
lected sufficient food for meditation. 

Will Wizard is particularly efficient in 
adding to the stock of originals which fre- 
quent our house ; for he is one of the most 
inveterate hunters of oddities I ever knew ; 
and his first care, on making a new acquaint- 



ance, is to gallant him to* old Cockloft's, 
where he never fails to receive the freedom of 
the house in a pinch from his gold box. Will 
has, without exception, the queerest, most 
eccentric, and indescribable set of intimates 
that ever man possessed ; how he became ac- 
quainted with them I cannot conceive, ex- 
cept by supposing there is a secret attraction 
or unintelligible sympathy that unconsciously 
draws together oddities of every soil. 

Will's great crony for some time was Tom 
Straddle, to whom he really took a great 
liking. Staddle had just arrived in an im- 
portation of hardware, fresh from the city of 
Birmingham, or rather, as the most learned 
English would call it, Brummagem, so fa- 
mous for its manufactories of gimlets, pen- 
knives, and pepper-boxes, and where they 
make buttons and beaux enough to inundate 
our whole country. He was a young man of 
considerable standing in the manufactory at 
Birmingham ; sometimes had the honour to 
hand his master's daughter into a tim-whiskey, 
was the oracle of the tavern he frequented on 
Sundays, and could beat all his associates, if 
you would take his word for it, in boxing, 
beer-drinking, jumping over chairs, and imi- 
tating cats in a gutter and opera-singers. 
Straddle was, moreover, a member of a catch- 
club, and was a great hand at ringing bob- 
majors ; he was, of course, a complete con- 
noisseur in music, and entitled to assume that 
character at all performances in the art. He 
was likewise a member of a spouting-club ; 
had seen a company of strolling actors per- 
form in a barn, and had even, like Abel 
Drugger, " enacted" the part of Major Stur- 
geon with considerable applause; he was 
consequently a profound critic, and fully 
authorised to turn up his nose at any Ame- 
rican performances. He had twice partaken 
of annual dinners, given to the head manu- 
facturers of Birmingham, where he had the 
good fortune to get a taste of turtle and turbot, 
and a smack of Champagne and Burgundy ; 
and he had heard a vast deal of the roast beef 
of Old England; he was therefore epicure 
sufficient to d — n every dish and every glass 
of wine he tasted in America, though at the 
same time he was as voracious an animal as 
ever crossed the Atlantic. Straddle had been 
splashed half a dozen times by the carriages 



SALMAGUNDI. 



of nobility, and had once the superlative feli- 
city of being kicked out of doors by the foot- 
man of a noble duke ; he could, therefore, 
talk of nobility, and despise the untitled 
plebeians of America. In short, Straddle 
was one of those dapper, bustling, florid, 
round, self-important " gemmen" who bounce 
upon us half beau, half button -maker ; under- 
take to give us the true polish of the bon-ton, 
and endeavour to inspire us with a proper and 
dignified contempt of our native country. 

Straddle was quite in raptures when his 
employers determined to send him to Ame- 
rica as an agent. He considered himself as 
going among a nation of barbarians, where 
he would be received as a prodigy : he antici- 
pated, with a proud satisfaction, the bustle 
and confusion his arrival would occasion; 
the crowd that would throng to gaze at him 
as he passed through the streets ; and had 
little doubt but that he should excite as much 
curiosity as an Indian chief or a Turk in the 
streets of Birmingham. He had heard of the 
beauty of our women, and chuckled at the 
thought of how completely he should eclipse 
their unpolished beaux, and the number of 
despairing lovers that would mourn the hour 
of his arrival. I am even informed by Will 
Wizard that he put good store of beads, spike- 
nails, and looking-glasses in his trunk, to 
win the affections of the fair ones as they 
paddled about in their bark canoes. The 
reason Will gave for this error of Straddle's 
respecting our ladies was, that he had read in 
Guthrie's Geography that the aborigines of 
America were all savages; and not exactly 
understanding the word aborigines, he applied 
to one of his fellow apprentices, who assured 
him that it was the Latin word for inhabitants. 

Wizard used to tell another anecdote of 
Straddle, which always put him in a passion : 
— Will swore that the captain of the ship 
told him, that when Straddle heard they were 
off the banks of Newfoundland, he insisted 
upon going on shore there to gather some 
good cabbages, of which he was excessively 
fond. Straddle, however, denied all this, and 
declared it to be a mischievous quiz of Will 
Wizard, who indeed often made himself 
merry at his expense. However this may be, 
certain it is he kept his tailor and shoe-maker 
constantly employed for a month before his 



departure ; equipped himself with a smart 
crooked stick about eighteen inches long, a 
pair of breeches of most unheard-of length, a 
little short pair of Hoby 's white-topped boots, 
that seemed to stand on tip-toe to reach his 
breeches, and his hat had the true trans-atlan- 
tic declination towards his right ear. The 

fact was — nor did he make any secret of it 

he was detrmined to astonish the natives a 
few ! 

Straddle was not a little disappointed on 
his arrival, to find the Americans were rather 
more civilized than he had imagined ; he was 
suffered to walk to his lodgings unmolested 
by a crowd, and even unnoticed by a single 
individual : no love-letters came pouring in 
upon him ; no rivals lay in wait to assassinate 
him ; his very dress excited no attention, for 
there were many fools dressed equally ridi- 
culous with himself. This was mortifying 
indeed to an aspiring youth, who had come 
out with the idea of astonishing and capti- 
vating. He was equally unfortunate in his 
pretensions to the character of critic, con- 
noisseur, and boxer: he condemned our 
whole dramatic corps, and every thing apper- 
taining to the theatre ; but his critical abili- 
ties were ridiculed ; — he found fault with old 
Cockloft's dinner, not even sparing his wine, 
and was never invited to the house afterwards : 
—he scoured the streets at night, and was 
cudgelled by a sturdy watchman ; — he hoaxed 
an honest mechanic, and was soundly kicked. 
Thus disappointed in all his attempts at 
notoriety, Straddle hit on the expedient which 
was resorted to by the Giblets ; he determined 
to take the town by storm. He accordingly 
bought horses and equipages, and forthwith 
made a furious dash at style in a gig and 
tandem. 

As Straddle's finances were but limited, it 
may easily be supposed that his fashionable 
career infringed a little upon his consign- 
ments, which was indeed the case — for to use 
a true cockney phrase, Brummagem suffered. 
But this was a circumstance that made little 
impression upon Straddle, who was now a lad 
of spirit, and lads of spirit always despise the 
sordid cares of keeping another man's money. 
Suspecting this circumstance, I never could 
witness any of his exhibitions of style, with-' 
out some whimsical association of ideas. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



V5 



Did he give an entertainment to a host of 
guzzling friends, I immediately fancied them 
gormandizing heartily at the expense of poor 
Birmingham, and swallowing a consignment 
of hand-saws and razors. Did I behold him 
dashing through Broadway in his gig, I saw 
him, " in my mind's eye," driving tandem 
on a nest of tea-boards ; nor could I ever 
contemplate his cockney exhibitions of horse- 
manship, but my mischievous imagination 
would picture him spurring a cask of hard- 
ware, like rosy Bacchus bestriding a beer 
barrel, or the little gentleman who be-strad- 
dles the world in the front of Hutching's 
Almanack. 

Straddle was equally successful with the 
Giblets, as may well be supposed ; for though 
pedestrian merit may strive in vain to become 
fashionable in Gotham, yet a candidate in an 
equipage is always recognised, and, like 
Philip's ass, laden with gold, will gain ad- 
mittance every where. Mounted in his cur- 
ricle or his gig, the candidate is like a statue 
elevated on a high pedestal ; his merits are 
discernible from afar, and strike the dullest 
optics. Oh ! Gotham, Gotham ! most en- 
lightened of cities ! how does my heart swell 
with delight when I behold your sapient in- 
habitants lavishing their attention with such 
wonderful discernment ! 

Thus Straddle became quite a man of ton, 
and was caressed, and courted, and invited to 
dinners and balls. Whatever was absurd or 
ridiculous in him before, was now declared to 
be the style. He criticised our theatre, and 
was listened to with reverence. He pro- 
nounced our musical entertainments barbarous; 
and the judgment of Apollo himself would 
not have been more decisive. He abused 
our dinners ; and the god of eating, if there 
be any such deity, seemed to speak through 
his organs. He became at once a man of 
taste, for he put his malediction on every 
thing; and his arguments were conclusive, 
for he supported every assertion with a bet. 
He was likewise pronounced by the learned 
in the fashionable world, a young man of 
great research and deep observation, for he 
had sent home, as natural curiosities, an ear 
of Indian corn, a pair of moccasons, a belt of 
wampum, and a four-leaved clover. He had 
taken great pains to enrich this curious col- 



lection with an Indian, and a cataract, but 
without success. In fine, the people talked 
of Straddle and his equipage, and Straddle 
talked of his horses, until it was impossible 
for the most critical observer to pronounee 
whether Straddle or his horses were most ad- 
mired, or whether Straddle admired himself 
or his horses most. 

Straddle was now in the zenith of his glory. 
He swaggered about parlours and drawing- 
rooms with the same unceremonious confi- 
dence he used to display in the taverns at 
Birmingham. He accosted a lady as he 
would a bar-maid ; and this was pronounced 
a certain proof that he had been used to better 
company in Birmingham. He became the 
great man of all the taverns between New- 
York and Haerlem ; and no one stood a 
chance of being accommodated until Straddle 
and his horses were perfectly satisfied. He 
d— d the landlords and the waiters with the 
best air in the world, and accosted them with 
true gentlemanly familiarity. He staggered 
from the dinner table to the play, entered the 
box like a tempest, and staid long enough to 
be bored to death, and to bore all those who 
had the misfortune to be near him. From 
thence he dashed off to a ball, time enough 
to flounder through a cotillon, tear half a 
dozen gowns, commit a number of other de- 
predations, and make the whole company 
sensible of his infinite condescension in com- 
ing amongst them. The people of Gotham 
thought him a prodigious fine fellow; the 
young bucks cultivated his acquaintance with 
the most persevering assiduity, and his re- 
tainers were sometimes complimented with a 
seat in his curricle, or a ride on one of his 
fine horses. The belles were delighted with 
the attentions of such a fashionable gentle- 
man, and struck with astonishment at his 
learned distinctions between wrought scissors 
and those of cast-steel ; together with his pro- 
found dissertations on buttons and horse- 
flesh. The rich merchants courted his ac- 
quaintance, because he was an Englishman ; 
and their wives treated him with great de- 
ference, because he had come from beyond 
seas. I cannot help here observing, that 
your salt water is a marvellous great sharpener 
of men's wits, and I intend to recommend it to 
some of my acquaintance in a particular essay. 



76 



SALMAGUNDI. 



Straddle continued his brilliant career for 
only a short time. His prosperous journey, 
over the turnpike of fashion was checked by 
some of those stumbling-blocks in the way of 
aspiring youth, called creditors, or duns — a 
race of people who, as a celebrated writer 
observes, "are hated by gods and men." 
Consignments slackened, whispers of distant 
suspicion floated in the dark, and those pests 
Of society, the tailors and shoe-makers, rose 
in rebellion against Straddle. In vain were 
all his remonstrances, in vain did he prove to 
them, that though he had given them no 
money, yet he had given them more custom, 
and as many promises as any young man in 
the city. They were inflexible, and the sig- 
nal of danger being given, a host of other 
prosecutors pounced upon his back. Straddle 
saw there was but one way for it ; he deter- 
mined to do the thing genteelly, to go to 
smash like a hero, and dashed into the limits 
in high style, being the fifteenth gentleman I 
have known to drive tandem to the — ne plus 
ultra — the d— — 1. 

Unfortunate Straddle ! may thy fate be a 
warning to all young gentlemen who come 
out from Birmingham to astonish the natives ! 
I should never have taken the trouble to de- 
lineate his character, had he not been a genuine 
cockney, and worthy to be the representative 
of his numerous tribe. Perhaps my simple 
countrymen may hereafter be able to distin- 
guish between the real English gentleman, 
and individuals of the cast I have heretofore 
spoken of, as mere mongrels, springing at one 
bound from contemptible obscurity at home, 
to day -light and splendour in this good-na- 
tured land. The true born and true bred 
Englishman is a character I hold in great re- 
spect ; and I love to look back to the period 
when our forefathers flourished in the same 
generous soil, and hailed each other as bro- 
thers. But the cockney ! — when I contemplate 
him as springing too from the same source, 
I feel ashamed of the relationship, and am 
tempted to deny my origin. In the character 
of Straddle is traced the complete outline of a 
true cockney, of English growth, and a de- 
scendant of that individual facetious charac- 
ter mentioned by Shakespeare, " who, in pure 
Mildness to his horse, buttered his hay." 



THE STRANGER AT HOME 



A TOUR IN BR OAD WA Y. 

BY JEREMY COCKLOFT, THE YOUNGER. 

PREFACE. 

Your learned traveller begins his travels at 
the commencement of his journey; others 
begin their's at the end ; and a third class begin 
any how and any where, which I think is the 
true way. A late facetious writer begins 
what he calls "A Picture of New- York," 
with a particular description of Glen's Falls, 
from whence, with admirable dexterity, he 
makes a digression to the celebrated Mill 
Rock, on Long-Island ! Now this is what I 
like ; and I intend in my present tour to di- 
gress as often and as long as I please. If, 
therefore, I choose to make a hop, skip, and 
jump to China, or New-Holland, or Terra 
Incognita, or Communipaw, I can produce a 
host of examples to justify me, even in books 
that have been praised by the English re- 
viewers, whose fiat being all that is necessary 
to give books a currency in this country, I 
am determined, as soon as I finish my edition 
of travels, in seventy -five volumes, to transmit 
it forthwith to them for judgment. If these 
trans-atlantic censors praise it, I have no fear 
of its success in this country, where their ap- 
probation gives, like the Tower stamp, a fic- 
titious value, and makes tinsel and wampum 
pass current for classic gold. 

CHAP. I. 

Battery — flag-staff kept by Louis Keaffee 
— Keaffee maintains two spy -glasses by sub- 
scription — merchants pay two shillings a-year 
to look through them at the signal-poles on 
Staten-Island ; a very pleasant prospect, but 
not so pleasant as that from the hill of Howth 
— quere, ever been there ? Young seniors go 
down to the flag-staff to buy peanuts and 
beer, after the fatigue of their morning stu- 
dies, and sometimes to play at ball, or some 
other innocent amusement — digression to the 
Olympic and Isthmian games, with a de- 
scription of the Isthmus of Corinth, and that 
of Darien : to conclude with a dissertation on 
the Indian custom of offering a whiff of to- 
bacco-smoke to their great spirit Areskou- 



SALMAGUNDI. 



77 



.Return to the battery; delightful place to 
indulge in the luxury of sentiment. How 
various are the mutations of this world ! but 
a few days, a few hours — at least not above 
two hundred years ago, and this spot was in- 
habited by a race of aborigines, who dwelt in 
bark huts, lived upon oysters and Indian 
*orn, danced buffalo dances and were lords 
'of the fowl and the brute;" but the spirit 
>f time, and the spirit of brandy, have swept 
chem from their ancient inheritance : and as 
the white wave of the ocean, by its ever toil- 
ing assiduity, gains on the brown land, so the 
white man, by slow and sure degrees, has 
:ained on the brown savage, and dispossessed 
im of the land of his forefathers. Conjec- 
ares on the first peopling of America — dif* 
,rent opinions on that subject — to the amount 
f near one hundred — opinion of Augustine 
7orniel, that they are the descendants of 
-hem and Japhet, who came by the way of 
apan to America— JufFridius Petri says they 
;ame from Friezeland — mem. cold journey. 
Alons. Charron says they are descended from 
the Gauls — bitter enough. A. Milius from 
the Celtic — Kircher from the Egyptians — Le 
Compte from the Phoenicians — Lescarbot from 
the Car.aanites, alias the Anthropophagi— 
Brerewood from the Tartars— Grotius from 
the Norwegians — and Linkum Pidelius has 
written two folio volumes to prove that Ame- 
rica was first of all peopled either by the An- 
tipodeans, or the Cornish miners, who, he 
maintains, might easily have made a subter- 
ranean passage to this country, particularly 
the Antipodeans, who, he asserts, can get 
along under ground as fast as mules — quere, 
which of these is in the right, or are they all 
wrong ? For my part, I don't see why Ame- 
rica has not as good a right to be peopled at 
first, as any little contemptible country in 
Europe or of Asia ; and I am determined to 
write a book at my first leisure, to prove that 
Noah was born here ; and that so far is Ame- 
rica from being indebted to any other country 
for inhabitants, that they were every one of 
them peopled by colonies from her ! — Mem. 
battery a very pleasant place to walk on a 
Sunday evening — not quite genteel though ; 
every body walks there, and a pleasure, how- 
ever genuine, is spoiled by general participa- 
tion : the fashionable ladies of New-York 



turn up their noses if you ask them to walk 
on the battery on Sunday — quere, have they 
scruples of conscience or scruples of delicacy ? 
— neither ; they have only scruples of gen- 
tility, which are quite different things. 

CHAP. II. 

Custom-house — origin of duties on mer- 
chandise — this place much frequented by 
merchants — and why? — different classes of 
merchants — importers — a kind of nobility- 
wholesale merchants — have the privilege of 
going to the city assembly ! — retail-traders 
cannot go to the assembly. Some curious 
speculations on the vast distinction betwixt 
selling tape by the piece or by the yard. 
Wholesale merchants look down upon the re- 
tailers, who in return look down upon the 
green grocers, who look down upon the market 
women, who don't care a straw about any of 
them. Origin of the distinction of ranks — 
Dr. Johnson once horribly puzzled to settle 
the point of precedence between a louse and a 
flea— good hint to humble purse-proud arro- 
gance. Custom-house partly used as a lodg- 
ing-house for the pictures belonging to the 
academy of arts— couldn't afford the statues 
house-room — most of them in the cellar of 
the city-hall — poor place for the gods and 
goddesses — after Olympus. Pensive reflec- 
tions on the ups and downs of life — Apollo, 
and the rest of the set, used to cut a great 
figure in days of yore — Mem. every dog has 
his day — sorry for Yenus though, poor wench j 
to be cooped up in a cellar with not a single 
grace to wait on her ! Eulogy on the gen- 
tlemen of the academy of arts, for the great 
spirit with which they began the undertaking, 
and the perseverance with which they have 
pursued it. It is a pity, however, they began 
at the wrong end — maxim, if you want a bird 
and a cage, always buy the cage first — hem ! 
—a word to the wise ! 

CHAP. III. 

Bowling-green — fine place for pasturing 
cows — a perquisite of the late corporation; 
formerly ornamented with a statue of George 
III. ; people pulled it down in the war to 
make bullets — great pity, as it might have 
been given to the academy; it would have 
become a cellar as well as any other. Broad- 



J 



7S 



SALMAGUNDI. 



way — great difference in the gentility of streets ; 
a man who resides in Pearl-street, or Chat- 
ham-row, derives no kind of dignity from his 
domicile, but place him in a certain part of 
Broadway — any where between the battery 
and "Wall-street, and he straightway becomes 
entitled to figure in the beau monde, and 
strut as a person of prodigious consequence ! 
Quere, whether there is a degree of purity in 
the air of that quarter which changes the 
gross particles of vulgarity into gems of re- 
finement and polish ? A question to be 
asked, but not to be answered — Wall-street— 
City hall — famous places for catch-poles, de- 
puty sheriffs and young lawyers ; which last 
attend the courts, not because they have busi- 
ness there, but because they have no business 
any where else. My blood always curdles 
when I see a catch-pole, they being a species 
of vermin, who feed and fatten on the com- 
mon wretchedness of mankind, who trade in 
misery, and in becoming the executioners of 
the law, by their oppression and villany, 
almost counterbalance all the benefits which 
are derived from it3 salutary regulations. 
Story of Quevedo about a catch -pole possessed 
by a devil, who on being interrogated, de- 
clared that he did not come there voluntarily, 
but by compulsion ; and that a decent devil 
would never of his own free will enter into 
the body of a catch-pole ; instead, therefore, 
of doing him the injustice to say that here was 
a catch-pole be-deviled, they should say it 
was a devil be-catch-poled ; that being in 
reality the truth. Wonder what has become 
of the old crier of the court, who used to 
make more noise in preserving silence than 
the audience did in breaking it ; if a man 
happened to drop his cane, the old hero 
would sing out "• silence !" in a voice emu- 
lating the " wide mouthed thunder." On 
inquiry, found he had retired from business 
to enjoy otium cum dignitate, as many a 
great man had done before. Strange that 
wise men, as they are thought, should toil 
through a whole existence merely to enjoy a 
few moments of leisure at last ! why don't 
they begin to be easy at first, and not pur- 
chase a moment's pleasure with an age of 
pain ?— mem. posed some of the jockeys, 
—eh! 



CHAP. IV. 



Barber's pole ! three different orders of 
shavers in New-York ; those who shave pigs ; 
N. B. Freshmen and sophomores, — those who 
cut beards, and those who shave notes of 
hand ; the last are the most respectable, be- 
cause, in the course of a year, they make 
more money, and that honestly, than the 
whole corps of other shavers can do in half 
a century ; besides, it would puzzle a com- 
mon barber to ruin any man, except by cut- 
ting his throat ; whereas your higher order 
of shavers, your true blood-suckers of the 
community, seated snugly behind the curtain, 
in watch for prey, live upon the vitals of the 
unfortunate, and grow rich on the ruin of 
thousands — Yet this last class of barbers 
are held in high respect in the world ; they 
never offend against the decencies of life, go 
often to church, look down on honest poverty, 
walking on foot, and call themselves gentle- 
men ; yea, men of honour ! Lottery offices 
— another set of capital shavers ! licensed 
gambling.houses ! good things enough though, 
as they enable a few honest industrious gen- 
tlemen to humbug the people — according to 
law ; besides, if the people will be such 
fools, whose fault is it but their own if they 
get bit ? Messrs. Puff— beg pardon for put- 
ting them in such bad company, because they 
are a couple of fine fellows — mem — to re- 
commend Michael's antique snuff-box to all 
amateurs in the art. Eagle singing Yankey- 
doodle — N. B. Buffon, Pennant, and the 
rest of the naturalists all naturals not to know 
the eagle was a singing bird ; Linkum Fide- 
lius knew better, and gives a long description 
of a bald eagle that serenaded him once in 
Canada : — digression ; particular account of 
the Canadian Indians ; — story about Areskou 
learning to make fishing nets of a spider — 
don't believe it though, because, according 
to Linkum, and many other learned authori- 
ties', Areskou is the same as Mars, being 
derived from his Greek name of Ares ; and 
if so he knew well enough what a net was 
without consulting a spider : — story of 
Arachne being changed into a spider as a 
reward for having hanged herself ; — deriva- 
tion of the word spinster from spider :— Co- 
lophon, now Altobosco, the birth-place of 



SALMAGUNDI. 



79 



Arachne, remarkable for a famous breed of 
spiders to this day ;— - rnem — nothing like a 
little scholarship— make the ignoramuses, 
viz. the majority of my readers, stare like 
wild pigeons ; return to New-York by a 
short cut — meet a dashing belle, in a thick 
white veil— tried to get a peep at her face ; 
saw she squinted a little — thought so at first; 
never saw a face covered with a veil that was 
worth looking at : saw some ladies holding a 
conversation across the street about going to 
church next Sunday — talked so loud they 
frightened a cartman's horse, who ran away, 
and overset a basket of gingerbread with a 
little boy under it ; — mem — I don't much 
see the use of speaking trumpets now-a- 
days. 

CHAP. V. 

Bought a pair of gloves ; dry-good stores 
the genuine schools of politeness — true Pari- 
sian manners there ; got a pair of gloves and 
a pistareen's worth of bows for a dollar — dog 
cheap ! Courtlandt-street corner — famous 
place to see the belles go by ; quere, ever 
been shopping with a lady ? Some account 
of it. Ladies go into all the shops in the 
city to buy a pair of gloves ; good way of 
spending time, if they have nothing else to 
do. Oswego market — looks very much like 
a triumphal arch : some account of the man- 
ner of erecting them in ancient times : digres- 
sion to the arch-duke Charles, and some ac- 
count of the ancient Germans* N. B. Quote 
Tacitus on this subject. Particular descrip- 
tion of market-baskets, butchers' blocks, and 
wheelbarrows ; mem. queer things run upon 
one wheel ! Saw a cartman driving full-tilt 
through Broadway — run over a child ; good 
enough for it — what business had it to be in 
the way ? Hint concerning the laws against 
pig s > goats, dogs, and cartmen ; grand apos- 
trophe to the sublime science of jurisprudence. 
—Comparison between legislators and tinkers: 
quere, whether it requires greater ability to 
mend a law than to mend a kettle ? Inquiry 
into the utility of making laws that are 
broken a hundred times in a day with impu- 
nity ; my Lord Coke's opinion on the sub- 
ject ; my lord a very great man — so was Lord 
Bacon : good story about a criminal named 
Hog claiming relationship with him. Hogg's 



porter-house — great haunt of Will Wizard. 
Will put down there one night by a sea-cap- 
tain, in an argument concerning the sera of 
the Chinese Empire Whangpo. Hogg's a 
capital place for hearing the same stories, the 
same jokes, and the same songs, every night 
in the year — mem. except Sunday nights ; 
fine school for young politicians, too ; some 
of the longest and thickest heads in the city 
come there to settle the affairs of the nation. 
Scheme of Ichabod Fungus to restore the 
balance of Europe. Digression ; some ac- 
count of the balance of Europe ; comparison 
between it and a pair of scales, with the 
Emperor Alexander in one and the Emperor 
Napoleon in the other : fine fellows — both of 
a weight ; can't tell which will kick the 
beam ; — mem. don't care much either — no- 
thing to me. Ichabod very unhappy about 
it ; thinks Napoleon has an eye on this coun- 
try : capital place to pasture his horses, and 
provide for the rest of his family. Dey- 
street ; ancient Dutch name of it, signifying 
murderers'-valley, formerly the site of a great 
peach orchard ; my grandmother's history of 
the famous peach war ; arose from an Indian 
stealing peaches out of this orchard — good 
cause as need be for a war ; just as good as 
the balance of power. Anecdote of a war 
between two Italian states about a bucket ; 
introduce some capital new truisms about the 
folly of mankind, the ambition of kings, 
potentates, and princes — particularly Alex- 
ander, Caesar, Charles XII., Napoleon, little, 
king Pepin, and the great Charlemagne. 
Conclude with an exhortation to the present 
race of sovereigns to keep the king's peace 
and abstain from all those deadly quarrels 
which produce battle, murder, and sudden 
death ; mem. ran my nose against a lamp- 
post — conclude in great dudgeon. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

Our cousin Pindar, after having been con- 
fined for some time past with a fit of the gout, 
which is a kind of keep-sake in our family, 
has again set his mill agoing, as my readers 
will perceive. On reading his piece I could 
not help smiling at the high compliments 
which, contrary to his usual style, he has. 



80 



SALMAGUNDI. 



lavished on the dear sex. The old gentle- 
man unfortunately observing my merriment, 
stumped out of the room with great vocifera- 
tion of crutch, and has not exchanged three 
words with me since. I expect every hour to 
hear that he has packed up his moveables, 
and, as usual in all cases of disgust, retreat- 
ed to his old country house, 

Pindar, like most of the old Cockloft he- 
roes, is wonderfully susceptible to the genial 
influence of warm weather. In winter he is 
one of the most crusty old bachelors under 
heaven, and is wickedly addicted to sarcastic 
reflections of every kind, particularly on the 
little enchanting foibles and whim-whams of 
women. But when the spring comes on, and 
the mild influence of the sun releases nature 
from her icy fetters, the ice of his bosom dis- 
solves into a gentle current, which reflects 
the bewitching qualities of the fair ; as in 
some mild, clear evening, when nature re- 
poses in silence, the stream bears in its pure 
bosom all the starry magnificence of heaven. 
It is under the control of this influence he 
has written his piece ; and I beg the ladies, 
in the plenitude of their harmless conceit, 
not to flatter themselves that because the 
good Pindar has suffered them to escape his 
censures he had nothing more to censure. It 
is but sunshine, and zephyrs, which have 
wrought this wonderful change; and I am 
much mistaken, if the first north-easter, don't 
convert all his good nature into most exqui- 
site spleen. 



FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT Esq. 

How often I cast my reflections behind, 

And eall up the days of pasr youth to my mind! 

When folly assails in habiliments new, 

When fashion obtrudes some fresh whim-wham to 

view ; 
When the foplings of fashion bedazzled my sight, 
Bewilder my feelings-^my senses benight ; 
I retreat in disgust from the world of to-day, 
To eommune with the world that has moulder'd away ; 
To converse with the shades of those friends, of my 

love, 
Long gather 'd in peace to the angels above. 
In my rambles through life, should I meet with 

annoy 
From the bold beardless stripling— the turbid pert 

boy; 
One rear'd in the mode lately reckon 'd genteel, 
Which neglecting the head, aims to perfect the heel j 



Which completer ti?e sweet fopling while yet in his 

teens 
And fits him for Fashion's light changeable scenes ; 
Proclaims him a man to the near and the far, 
Can he dance a cotillon or smoke a cigar ; 
And though brainless and vapid as vapid can be. 
To routs and to parties pronounces him free : — 
O ! I think on the beaux that existed of yore, 
On those rules of the ton that exist now no more ! 

I recall with delight how each younker at first 
In the cradle of science and virtue was nurs'd; 
How the graces of person and graces of mind, 
The polish of learning and fashion combined, 
Till softened in manners and strengthened in head. 
By the classical lore of the living and dead, 
Matured in his person till manly in size, 
He then was presented a beau to our eyes ! 

My nieces of late have made frequent complaint 
That they suffer vexation and painful constraint, 
By having their circles too often distrest 
By some three or four goslings just fledged frcin the 

nest, 
Who propp'd by the credit their fathers sustain, 
Alike tender in years and in person and brain, 
But plenteously stock'd with that substitute brass, 
For true wits and critics would anxiously pass. 
They complain of that empty sarcastical slang, 
So common to all the coxcombical gang, 
Who the fair with their shallow experience vex, 
By thrumming for ever their weakness of sex — 
And who boast of themselves, when they talk with 

proud air, 
Of Man's mental ascendancy over the fair. 

•Twas thus the young owlet produced in the nest, 
Where the eagle of Jove her young eaglets had press 'd, 
Pretended to boast of his royal descent, 
And vaunted that force which to eagles is lent. 
Though fated to shun with his dim visual ray 
The cheering delights and the brilliance of day, 
To forsake the fair regions of ether and light, 
For dull moping caverns of darkness and night ; 
Still talk'd of that eagle-like strength of the eye, - 
Which approaches, unwinking, the pride of the sky ; 
Of that wing which, unwearied, can hover and play 
In the noon-tide effulgence and torrent of day. 

Dear girls, the sad evils of which ye complain, 
Your sex must endure from the feeble and vain. 
'Tis the common-place jest of the nursery scape-goat ; 
*Tis the common-place ballad that croaks from his 

throat : 
He knows not that nature— that polish decrees, 
That women should always endeavour to please 
That the law of their system has early imprest 
The importance of fitting themselves to each guest ; , 
And, of course, that full oft when ye trifle and play, , 
'Tis to gratify triflers who strut in your way. . 
The child might as well of its mother complain. 
As wanting true wisdom and soundness of brain, 
Because that, at times, while 'it hangs on her breast. 
She with " luUa-by-baby" beguiles it to rest, 
'Tis its weakness of mind that induces the strain ; 
For wisdom to infants is prattled in vain. 

'Tis true, at odd times, when in frolicksome fit, 
In the midst of his gambols, the mischievous wit 



SALMAGUNDI. 



Si 



May start some light foible that clings to the fair, 
Like cobwebs that fasten to objects most rare ; 
In the play of his fancy will sportively say 
Some delicate censure that pops in his way : 
He may smile at your fashions, and frankly express 
His dislike of a dance, or a flaming red dress ; 
Yet he blames not your want of man's physical force, 
Nor complains though ye cannot in Latin discourse 
He delights in the language of nature ye speak, 
Though not so refined as true classical Greek. 
He remembers that providence never design 'd 
Our females like suns to bewilder and blind ; 
But like the mild orb of pale evening serene, 
Whose radiance illumines, yet softens the scene, 
To light us with cheering and welcoming ray, 
Along the rude path when the sun is away. 

I own in my scribblings I lately have named 
Some faults of our fair which I gently have blamed ; 
But be it for ever by all understood, 
My censures were only pronounced for their good. 
I delight in the sex— 'tis the pride of my mind 
To consider them gentle, endearing, refin'd ; 
As our solace below in the journey of life, 
To smooth its rough passes, to soften its strife; 
As objects intended our joys to supply, 
And to lead us in love to the temples on high. 
How oft have I felt, when two lucid blue eyes, 
As calm and as bright as the gems of the skies, 
Have beam'd their soft radiance into my soul, 
Impress'd with an awe like an angel's control ! 

Yes, fair ones, by this is for ever defin'd 
The fop from the man of refinement and mind : 
The latter believes ye in bounty were given 
As a bond upon earth of our union with heaven ; 
And if ye are weak, and are frail, in his view, 
'Tis to call forth fresh warmth and his fondness renew. 
•Tis his joy to support these defects of your frame, 
And his love at your weakness redoubles its flame ; 
He rejoices the gem is so rich and so fair. 
And is proud that it claims his protection and care. 



No. 13. 



FRIDAY, AUGUST 14, 1807. 

FROM MY EI.BOW-CHAIR. 

I was not a little perplexed, a short time 
since, by the eccentric conduct of my knowing 
coadjutor, Will Wizard. For two or three 
days he was completely in a quandary. He 
would come into old Cockloft's parlour ten 
times a day, swinging his ponderous legs 
along with his usual vast strides, clap his 
hands into his sides, contemplate the little 
shepherdesses on the mantle-piece for a few 
minutes, whistling all the while, and then 
sally out full sweep, without uttering a word. 
To be sure a pish or a pshaw occasionally 
escaped him ; and he was observed once to 
G 



pull out his enormous tobxcco box, drum for 
a moment upon its lid with his knuckles, and 
then return it into his pocket without taking 
a quid. 'Twas evident Will was full of some 
mighty idea — not that his restlessness was 
any way uncommon ; for I have often seen 
Will throw himself almost into a fever of 
heat and fatigue— doing nothing. But his 
inflexible taciturnity set the whole family, as 
usual, a-wondering, as Will seldom enters 
the house without giving one of his " one 
thousand and one" stories. For my part, I 
began to think that the late fracas at Canton 
had alarmed Will for the sake of his friends, 
Kinglun, Chinqua, and Consequa — or that 
something had gone wrong in the alterations 
of the theatre — or that some new outrage at 
Norfolk had put him in a worry ; in short, I 
did not know what to think ; for Will is 
such a universal busy-body, and meddles so 
much in every thing going forward, that you 
might as well attempt to conjecture what is 
going on in the North Star as in his precious 
pericranium. Even Mrs. Cockloft, who like 
a worthy woman as she is, seldom troubles 
herself about any thing in this world, saving 
the affairs of her household, and the correct 
deportment of her female friends, was struck 
with the mystery of Will's behaviour. She 
happened, when he came in and went out 
the tenth time, to be busy darning the bottom 
of one of the old red damask chairs ; and 
notwithstanding this is to her an affair of vast 
importance, yet she could not help turning 
round and exclaiming, " I wonder what can 
be the matter with Mr. Wizard !" " No- 
thing," replied old Christopher, " only we 
shall have an eruption soon.''— The old lady 
did not understand a word of this, neither did 
she care : she had expressed her wonder ; and 
that, with her, is always sufficient. 

I am so well acquainted with Will's pecu- 
liarities, that I can tell, even by his whistle, 
when he is about an essay for our paper as 
certainly as a weather wise-acre knows that it 
is going to rain when he sees a pig run 
squeaking about with his nose in the wind. 
I, therefore, laid my account with receiving 
a communication from him before long ; and 
sure enough, the evening before last I dis- 
tinguished his free-mason knock at my door. 
I have seen many wise men in my time, phi- 

6 



OJ 



SALMAGUNDI. 



losophers, mathematicians, astronomers, poli« 
ticians, editors, and almanack-makers— but 
never did I see a man look half as wise as 
did my friend Wizard on entering the room. 
Had Lavater beheld him at that moment, he 
would have set him down, to a certainty, as 
a fellow who had just discovered the longi- 
tude or the philosopher's stone. 

Without saying a word, he handed me a 
roll of paper; after which he lighted his 
cigar, sat down, crossed his legs, folded his 
arms, and, elevating his nose to an angle cf 
about forty-five degrees, began to smoke like 
a steam-engine. Will delights in the pic- 
turesque. On opening his budget, and per- 
ceiving the motto, it struck me that Will had 
brought me one of his confounded Chinese 
manuscripts, and I was going to dimiss it 
with indignation ; but accidentally seeing the 
name of our oracle, the sage Linkum, of 
whose inestimable folios we pride ourselves 
upon being the sole possessors, I began to 
think the better of it, and looked round at 
Will to express my approbation. I shall 
never forget the figure he cut at that moment ! 
He had watched my countenance, on opening 
his manuscript, with the Argus eyes of an 
author ; and perceiving some tokens of dis- 
approbation, began, according to custom, to 
puff away at his cigar with such vigour, that 
in a few minutes he had entirely involved 
himself in smoke, except his nose and one 
foot which were just visible, the latter wagging 
with great velocity. I believe I have hinted 
before — at least I ought to have done so— - 
that Will's nose is a very goodly nose ; to 
which it may be as well to add, that in his 
voyages under the tropics it had acquired a 
copper complexion, which renders it very bril- 
liant and luminous. You may imagine what 
a sumptuous appearance it made, projecting 
boldly, like the celebrated promontorium nasi- 
dium at Samos with a light-house upon it, 
and surrounded on all sides with smoke and 
vapour. Had my gravity been like the Chi- 
nese philosopher's, " within one degree of 
absolute frigidity," here would have been a 
trial for it. I could not stand it, but burst 
into such a laugh as I do not indulge in above 
once in a hundred years. This was too much 
for Will ; he emerged from his cloud, threw 
his cigar into the fire-place, and strode out of 



the room pulling up his breeches, muttering 
something which, I verily believe, was nothing 
more nor less than a horribly long Chinese 
malediction. 

He, however, left his manuscript behind 
him, which I now give to the world. Whe- 
ther he is serious on the occasion, or only 
bantering, no one, I believe, can tell; for, 
whether in speaking or writing, there is such 
an invincible gravity in his demeanour and 
style, that even I, who have studied him as 
closely as an antiquarian studies an old 
manuscript or inscription, am frequently at a 
loss to know what the rogue would be at. I 
have seen him indulge in his favourite amuse- 
ment of quizzing for hours together, without 
any one having the least suspicion of the 
matter, until he would suddenly twist his phiz 
into an expression that baffles all description, 
thrust his tongue in his cheek, and blow up 
into a laugh almost as loud as the shout of 
the Romans on a certain occasion, which ho- 
nest Plutarch avers frightened several crows 
to such a degree that they fell down stone 
dead into the Campus Martius. Jeremy 
Cockloft, the younger, who like a true modern 
philosopher, delights in experiments that are 
of no kind of use, took the trouble to measure 
one of Will's risible explosions, and declared 
to me that, according to accurate measure- 
ment, it contained thirty feet square of solid 
laughter. What will the professors say to 
this? 



PLANS FOR DEFENDING OUR 
HARBOUR. 

BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

Long-fong teko buzz tor-pe-do, 

Fudge — Confucius. 

We'll blow the villains all sky high ; 
But do it with econo— my. Link. Fid. 

Surely never was a town more subject to 
midsummer fancies and dog-day whim- 
whams, than this most excellent of cities. 
Our notions, like our diseases, seem all epi- 
demic ; and no sooner does a new disorder or 
a new freak seize one individual, but it is 
sure to run through all the community. — 
This is particularly the case when the summer 
is at the hottest, and every body's head is in a 
vertigo, and his brain in a ferment ; 'tis ab- 



SALMAGUNDI. 



?3 



solutely necessary, then, the poor souls should 
have some bubble to amuse themselves with, 
or they would certainly run mad. Last year 
the poplar worm made its appearance most 
fortunately for our citizens ; and every body 
was so much in horror of being poisoned, 
and devoured, and so busied in making 
humane experiments on cats and dogs, that 
we got through the summer quite comfort- 
ably : the cats had the worst of it — every 
mouser of them was shaved, and there was 
not a whisker to be seen in the whole sister- 
hood. This summer every body has had full 
employment in planning fortifications for our 
harbour. Not a cobbler or tailor in the city 
but has left his awl and his thimble, become 
an engineer outright, and aspired most mag- 
nanimously to the building of forts and de- 
struction of navies. Heavens ! as my friend 
Mustapha would say, on what a great scale 
is every thing in this country ! 

Among the various plans that have been 
offered, the most conspicuous is one devised 
and exhibited, as I am informed, by that 
notable confederacy the North River Society. 

Anxious to redeem their reputation from 
the foul suspicions that have for a long time 
overclouded it, these aquatic incendiaries have 
come forward, at the present alarming junc- 
ture, and announced a most potent discovery, 
which is to guarantee our port from the 
visits of any foreign marauders. The Society 
have, it seems, invented a cunning machine, 
shrewdly ycleped a Torpedo ; by which the 
stoutest line-ot-battleship, even a Santissima 
Trinidada, may be caught napping, and 
decomposed in a twinkling ; a kind of sub- 
marine powder-magazine to swim under 
water, like an aquatic mole, or water rat, and 
destroy the enemy in the moment of unsuspi- 
cious security. 

This straw tickled the noses of all our dig- 
nitaries wonderfully ; for to do our govern- 
ment justice, it has no objection to injuring 
and exterminating its enemies in any manner 
provided the thing can be done economically. 

It was determined the experiment should 
be tried, and an old brig was purchased, for 
not more than twice its value, and delivered 
over into the hands of its tormentors, the 
North River Society, to be tortured, and 
battered, and annihilated, secundum artem. 
G 2 



A day was appointed for the occasion, when 
all the good citizens of the wonder-loving 
city of Gotham were invited to the blowing- 
up ; like the fat inn-keeper in Rabelais, who 
requested all his customers to come on a cer- 
tain day and see him burst. 

As I have almost as great a veneration as 
the good Mr. Walter Shandy for all kinds of 
experiments that are ingeniously ridiculous, 
I made very particular mention of the one in 
question, at the table of my friend Christopher 
Cockloft; but it put the honest old gentleman 
in a violent passion. He condemned it in 
toto, as an attempt to introduce a dastardly 
and exterminating mode of warfare. " Al- 
ready have we proceeded far enough," said 
he, " in the science of destruction ; war is 
already invested with sufficient horrors and ca- 
lamities, let us not increase the catalogue ; let 
us not by these deadly artifices provoke a system 
of insidious and indiscriminate hostility, that 
shall terminate in laying our cities desolate, 
and exposing our women, our children, and 
our infirm, to the sword of pitiless recrimina- 
tion." Honest old cavalier !— it was evident 
he did not reason as a true politician ; but he 
felt as a christian and philanthropist ; and 
that was, perhaps, just as well. 

It may be readily supposed, that our citi- 
zens did not refuse the invitation of the society 
to the blow-up ; it was the first naval action 
ever exhibited in our port, and the good 
people all crowded to see the British navy 
blown up in effigy. The young ladies were 
delighted with the novelty of the show, and 
declared that if war could be conducted in 
this manner, it would become a fashionable 
amusement ; and the destruction of a fleet 
be as pleasant as a ball or a tea party. The 
old folk were equally pleased with the spec- 
tacle because it cost them nothing. Dear 

souls, how hard it was that they should be 
disappointed ! the brig most obstinately re- 
fused to be decomposed ; — the dinners grew 
cold, and the puddings were overboiled, 
throughout the renowned city of Gotham ; 
and its sapient Inhabitants, like the honest 
Strasburghers, from whom most of them are 
doubtless descended, who went out to see the 
courteous stranger and his nose, all returned 
home, after having threatened to pull down 
the flag staff by way of taking satisfaction 



Si 



SALMAGUNDI. 



for their disappointment. By the way, there 
is not an animal in the world more discrimi- 
nating in its vengeance than a free-born 
mob. 

In the evening I repaired to friend Hogg's, 
to smoke a sociable cigar, but had scarcely 
entered the room, when I was taken prisoner 
by my friend, Mr. Ichabod Fungus : who I 
soon saw was at his usual trade of prying into 
mill stones. The old gentleman informed 
me that the brig had actually blown up, after 
a world of manoeuvring, and had nearly blown 
up the society with it ; he seemed to entertain 
strong doubts as to the objects of the society 
•in the invention of these infernal machines — 
hinted a suspicion of their wishing to set the 
river on fire, and that he should not be sur- 
prized on waking one of these mornings to 
find the Hudson in a blaze. " Not that I 
disapprove of the plan," said he, " provided 
it has the end in view which they profess ; 
no, no, an excellent plan of defence; — no 
need of batteries, forts, frigates, and gun- 
boats; observe, sir, all that's necessary is 
that the ships must come to anchor in a con- 
venient place ; watch must be asleep, or so 
complacent as not to disturb any boats pad- 
dling about them — fair wind and tide — no 
moonlight — machines well directed — mustn't 
flash in the pan — bang's the word, and the 
vessels blown up in a moment !"_" Good," 
said I, " you remind me of a lubberly Chinese 
who was flogged by an honest Captain of my 
acquaintance, and who, on being advised to 
retaliate, exclaimed — " Hi yah ! spose two 
men hold fast him Captain, den very mush 
me bamboo he !" 

The old gentleman grew a little crusty, 
and insisted that I did not understand him ; 
— all that was requisite to render the effect 
certain was, that the enemy should enter into 
the project ; or, in other words, be agreeable 
to the measure ; so that if the machine did 
not come to the ship, the ship should go to 
the machine; by which means he thought 
the success of the machine would be inevit- 
able — provided it struck fire. " But do not 
you think," said I, doubtingly, " that it 
would be rather difficult to persuade the 
enemy into such an agreement ? — some people 
have an invincible antipathy to being blown 
up."—." Not at all, not at all," replied he, 



triumphantly ! " got an excellent notion for 
that ; do with them as we have done with the 
brig ; buy all the vessels we mean to destroy, 
and blow them up as best suits our conveni- 
ence. I have thought deeply on that subject, 
and have calculated to a certainty, that if our 
funds hold out, we may in this way destroy 
the whole British navy — by contract. 

By this time all the quidnuncs of the 
room had gathered around us, each pregnant 
with some mighty scheme for the salvation of 
his country. One pathetically lamented that 
we had no such men among us as the famous 
Toujoursdort and Grossitout, who, when the 
celebrated Captain Tranchemont made war 
against the city of Kalacahabalaba, utterly 
discomfited the great King Bigstaff, and blew 
up his whole army by sneezing. Another 
imparted a sage idea, which seems to have 
occupied more heads than one ; that is, that 
the best way of fortifying the harbour was to 
ruin it at once ; choak the channel with rocks 
and blocks ; strew it with chev aujc -de -f rises 
and torpedos ; and make it like a nursery 
garden, full of men traps and spring-guns. 
No vessel would then have the temerity to 
enter our harbour ; we should not even dare 
to navigate it ourselves. Or if no cheaper 
way could be devised, let Governor's Island 
be raised by levers and pulleys, floated with 
empty casks, &c, towed down to the Narrows, 
and dropped plump in the very mouth of the 
harbour ! — " But," said I, " would not the 
prosecution of these whim-whams be rather 
expensive and dilatory?" — " Pshaw!" cried 
the other — " what's a million of money to an 
experiment ? the true spirit of our economy 
requires that we should spare no expense in 
discovering the cheapest mode of defending 
oui selves; and then if all these modes should 
fail, why you know the worst we have to do 
is to return to the old faslfioned hum-drum 
mode of forts and batteries." <* By which 
time," cried I, " the arrival of the enemy 
may have rendered their erection "superflu- 
ous." 

A shrewd old gentleman, who stood listen- 
ing by with a mischievously equivocal look, 
observed that the most affectual mode of re- 
pulsing a fleet from our ports would be to ad- 
minister them a proclamation from time to 
time, till it operated. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



Unwilling to leave the company without 
demonstrating my patriotism and ingenuity, 
I communicated a plan of defence ; which in 
truth was suggested long since by that infal- 
lible oracle Mustapha, who had as clear a 
head for cobweb weaving as ever dignified the 
shoulders of a projector. He thought the 
most effectual mode would be to assemble all 
the slang-whangers, great and small, from 
all parts of the state, and marshal them at 
the battery ; where they should be exposed 
point blank to the enemy, and form a tre- 
mendous body of scolding infantry ; similar 
to the poissards or doughty champions of 
Billingsgate. They should be exhorted to 
fire away, without pity or remorse, in sheets, 
half-sheets, columns, hand-bills, or squibs ; 
great eanon, little canon, pica, german-text, 
stereotype, and- to run their enemies through 
with sharp pointed italics. They should 
have orders to show no quarter — to blaze away 
in their loudest epithets — " Miscreants /" 
" Murderers /" " Barbarians /" " Pi- 
rates .'" " Robbers /" " Blackguards !" 
and, to do away all fear of consequences, 
they should be guaranteed from all dangers 
of pillory, kicking, cuffing, nose-pulling, 
whipping-post, or prosecution for libels. If, 
continued Mustapha, you wish men to fight 
well and valiantly, they must be allowed 
those weapons they have been used to handle. 
Your countrymen are notoriously adroit in 
the management of the tongue and the pen, 
and conduct all their battles by speeches or 
newspapers. Adopt, therefore, the plan I 
have pointed out ; and rely upon it that let 
any fleet, however large, be but once assail- 
ed by this battery of slang-whangers, and if 
they have not entirely lost their sense of hear- 
ing, or a regard for their own characters and 
feelings, they will, at the very first fire, slip 
their cables, and retreat with as much preci- 
pitation as if they had unwarily entered into 
the atmosphere of the Bohan upas. In this 
manner may your wars be conducted with 
proper economy ; and it will cost no more to 
drive off a fleet than to write up a party, or 
write down a Bashaw of three tails. 

The sly old gentleman I have before men- 
tioned, was highly delighted with this plan ; 
and proposed, as an improvement, that mor- 
tars should be placed on the battery, which, 
G 3 



instead of throwing shells and such trifles, 
might be charged with newspapers, Tam- 
many addresses, &c. by way of red-hot shot, 
which would undoubtedly be very potent in 
blowing up any powder magazine they might 
chance to come in contact with. He concluded 
by informing the company,, that in the course 
of a few evenings he would have the honour 
to present them with a scheme for loading 
certain vessels with newspapers, resolutions 
of " numerous and respectable meetings," 
and other combustibles, which vessels were 
to be blown directly in the midst of the 
enemy by the bellows of the slang-whangers ; 
and he was much mistaken if they would 
not be more fatal than fire ships, bomb- 
ketches, gun-boats, or even torpedoes. 

These are but two or three -specimens of 
the nature and efficacy of the innumerable 
plans with which this city abounds. Every 
body seems charged to the muzzle with gun- 
powder, every eye flashes fire-works and tor- 
pedoes, and every corner is occupied by knots 
of inflammatory projectors ; not one of whom 
but has some preposterous mode of destruc- 
tion, which he has proved to be infallible by 
a previous experiment in a tub of water ! 

Even Jeremy Cockloft has caught the in- 
fection, to the great annoyance of the inha- 
bitants of Cockloft-hall, whither he had re- 
tired to make his experiments undisturbed. 
At one time all the mirrors in the house were 
unhung, — their collected rays thrown into 
the hot-house, to try Archimedes' plan of 
burning-glasses ; and the honest old gardener 
was almost knocked down by what he mis- 
took for a stroke of the sun, but which turn- 
ed out to be nothing more than a sudden at- 
tack of one of these tremendous jack-o'-lan- 
terns. It became dangerous to walk through 
the court-yard for fear of an explosion : and 
the whole family was thrown into absolute 
distress and consternation by a letter from the 
old housekeeper to Mrs. Cockloft, informing 
her of his having blown up a favourite Chi- 
nese gander, which I had brought from Can- 
ton, as he was majestically sailing in the 
duck-pond. 

" In the multitude of counsellors there is 
safety ;" if so, the defenceless city of Go- 
tham has nothing to apprehend ; but much 
do I fear that so many excellent and infallible 



8(5 



SALMAGUNDI 



projects will be presented, that we shall be at 
a loss which to adopt, and the peaceable in- 
habitants fare like a famous projector of my 
acquaintance, whose house was unfortunately 
plundered while he was contriving a patent 
lock to secure his door. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

A RETROSPECT 

OR, " WHAT YOU WILL." 

Lolling in my elbow-chair this fine sum- 
mer noon, I feel myself insensibly yielding 
to that genial feeling of indolence the season 
is so well fitted to inspire. Every one, who 
is blessed with a little of the delicious lan- 
guor of disposition that delights in repose, 
must often have sported among the faery 
scenes, the golden visions, the voluptuous 
reveries, that swim before the imagination at 
such moments, and which so much resemble 
those blissful sensations a Mussulman enjoys 
after his favourite indulgence of opium, 
which Will Wizard declares can be compared 
to nothing but " swimming in an ocean of 
peacocks' feathers." In such a mood, every 
body must be sensible it would be idle and 
unprofitable for a man to send his wits a 
gadding on a voyage of discovery into futu- 
rity ; or even to trouble himself with a labo- 
rious investigation of what is actually passing 
under his eye. We are, at such times, more 
disposed to resort to the pleasures of memory, 
than to those of the imagination ; and like 
the way-faring traveller, reclining for a mo- 
ment on his staff, had rather contemplate the 
ground we have travelled, than the region 
which is yet before us. 

I could here amuse myself and stultify my 
readers with a most elaborate and ingenious 
parallel between authors and travellers ; but 
in this balmy season which makes men stupid 
and dogs mad, and when doubtless many of 
our most strenuous admirers have great diffi- 
culty in keeping awake through the day, it 
would be cruel to saddle them with the for- 
midable difficulty of putting two ideas to- 
gether and drawing a conclusion ; or in the 
learned phrase, forging syllogisms in Baroco : 
— a terrible undertaking for the dog days ! 
To say the truth, my observations were only 



intended to prove that this, of all others, is 
the most auspicious moment, and my present 
the most favourable mood, for indulging in a 
retrospect — Whether, like certain great per- 
sonages of the day, in attempting to prove 
one thing, I have exposed another ; or 
whether, like certain other great personages, 
in attempting to prove a great deal, I have 
proved nothing at all, I leave to my readers 
to decide ; provided they have the power and 
inclination so to do; but a retrospect 
will I take notwithstanding. 

I am perfectly aware that in doing this I 
shall lay myself open to the charge of imita- 
tion, than which a man might be better ac- 
cused of downright housebreaking; for it 
has been a standing rule with many of my 
illustrious predecessors, occasionally, and 
particularly at the conclusion of a volume, to 
look over their shoulder and chuckle at the 
miracles they had achieved. But as I before 
professed, I am determined to hold myself 
entirely independent of all manner of opi- 
nions and criticisms, as the only method of 
getting on in this world in any thing like a 
straight line. True it is, I may sometimes 
seem to angle a little for the good opinion of 
mankind, by giving them some excellent rea- 
sons for doing unreasonable things ; but this 
is merely to show them that although I may 
occasionally go wrong it is not for want of 
knowing how to go right ; and here I will lay 
down a maxim, which will for ever entitle 
me to the gratitude of my inexperienced 
readers, namely, that a man always gets 
more credit in the eyes of this naughty world 
for sinning wilfully, than for sinning through 
sheer ignorance. 

It will doubtless be insisted by many in- 
genious cavillers, who will be meddling with 
what does not at all concern them, that this 
retrospect should have been taken at the com- 
mencement of our second volume ; * it is 
usual, I know : moreover it is natural. So 
soon as a writer has once accomplished a vo- 
lume, he forthwith becomes wonderfully in- 
creased in altitude ! He steps upon his book 
as upon a pedestal, and is elevated in propor- 
tion to its magnitude. A duodecimo makes 
him one inch taller ; an octavo, three inches ; 

* In the American editions the first Volume termi- 
nates with the 10th Number.— Edit. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



87 



a quarto six : — but he who has made out to 
swell a folio, looks down upon his fellow- 
creatures from such a fearful height that, 
ten to one, the poor man's head is turned for 
ever afterwards. From such a lofty situa- 
tion, therefore, it is natural an author should 
cast his eyes behind ; and having reached 
the first landing-place on the stairs of im- 
mortality, may reasonably be allowed to plead 
his privilege to look back over the height he 
has ascended. I have deviated a little from 
this venerable custom, merely that our retro- 
spect might fall in the dog days — of all days 
in the year most congenial to the indulgence 
of a little self-sufficiency ; inasmuch as peo- 
ple have then little to do but to retire within 
the sphere of self, and make the most of 
what they find there. 

Let it not be supposed, however, that we 
think ourselves a whit the wiser or better since 
we have finished our volume than we were 
before ; on the contrary, we seriously assure 
our readers that we were fully possessed of all 
the wisdom and morality it contains at the 
moment we commenced writing. It is the 
world which has grown wiser, — not us ; we 
have thrown our mite into the common stock 
of knowledge, we have shared our morsel 
with the ignorant multitude ; and so far from 
elevating ourselves above the world, our sole 
endeavour has been to raise the world to our 
own level, and make it as wise as we its dis- 
interested benefactors. 

To a moral writer like myself, who, next 
to his own comfort and entertainment, has 
the good of his fellow-citizens at heart, a re- 
trospect is but a sorry amusement. Like 
the industrious husbandman, he often con- 
templates in silent disappointment his labours 
wasted on a barren soil, or the seed he has 
carefully sown choked by a redundancy of 
worthless weeds. I expected long ere this to 
have seen a complete reformation in manners 
and morals, achieved by our united efforts. 
My fancy echoed to the applauding voices of 
a retrieved generation ; — I anticipated, with 
proud satisfaction, the period not far distant, 
when our work would be introduced into the 
academies with which every lane and alley in 
our cities abounds — when our precepts would 
be gently inducted into every unlucky urchin 
by force of birch— and my iron-bound physi- 



ognomy, as taken by Will Wizard, be as 
notorious as that of Noah Webster, jun. Esq. 
or his no less renowned predecessor the illus- 
trious Dil worth, of spelling-book immor- 
tality. But, well-a-day ! to let my readers 
into a profound secret, the expectations of 
man are like the varied hues that tinge the 
distant prospect — never to be realized — never 
to be enjoyed but in perspective. Luckless 
Launcelot ! that the humblest of the many 
air castles thou hast erected should prove a 
" baseless fabric !" Much does it grieve me 
to confess, that after all our lectures, precepts, 
and excellent admonitions, the people of 
New York are nearly as much given to back- 
sliding and ill-nature as ever ; they are just 
as much abandoned to dancing and tea- 
drinking; and as to scandal, Will Wizard 
informs me that, by a rough computation, 
since the last cargo of gunpowder-tea from 
Canton arrived, no less than eighteen cha- 
racters have been blown up, besides a num- 
ber of others that have been wofully shat- 
tered. 

The ladies still labour under the same 
scarcity of muslins, and delight in flesh- 
coloured silk stockings : it is evident, how- 
ever, that our advice has had very considera- 
ble effect on them, as they endeavour to act 
as opposite to it as possible — this being what 
Evergreen calls female independence. As to 
the Straddles, they abound as much as ever 
in Broadway, particularly on Sundays ; and 
Wizard roundly asserts that he supped in 
company with a knot of them a few evenings 
since, when they liquidated a whole Bir- 
mingham consignment in a batch of imperial 
champagne. I have, furthermore, in the 
course of a month past, detected no less than 
three Giblet familes making their first onset 
towards style and gentility, in the very man- 
ner we have heretofore reprobated. Nor have 
our utmost efforts been able to check the 
progress of that alarming epidemic, the rage 
for punning, which, though doubtless origi- 
nally intended merely to ornament and enliven 
conversation by little sports of fancy, threatens 
to overrun and poison the whole, like the 
baneful ivy which destroys the useful plant 
it first embellished. Now I look upon an 
habitual punster as a depredator upon conver- 
sation ; and I have remarked sometimes one 



SALMAGUNDI. 



of these offenders sitting silent on the watch 
for an hour together, until some luckless 
wight, unfortunately for the ease and quiet of 
the company, dropped a phrase susceptible 
of a double meaning — when, pop, our punster 
would dart out like a veteran mouser from 
her covert, seize the unlucky word, and after 
worrying and mumbling at it until it was 
capable of no further marring, relapse again 
into silent watchfulness, and lie in wait for 
another opportunity. Even this might be 
borne with, by the head of a little philosophy ; 
but the worst of it is, they are not content to 
manufacture puns and laugh heartily at them 
themselves, but they expect we should laugh 
with them — which I consider as anlntolerable 
hardship, and a flagrant imposition on good 
nature. Let these gentlemen fritter away 
conversation with impunity, and deal out 
their wits in sixpenny bits if they please, but 
I beg I may have the choice of refusing cur- 
rency to their small change. I am seriously 
afraid, however, that our junto is not quite 
free from the infection ; nay, that it has even 
approached so near as to menace the tran- 
quillity of my elbow-chair; for, Will 
Wizard, as we were in caucus the other night, 
absolutely electrified Pindar and myself with 
a most palpable and perplexing pun — had it 
been a torpedo, it could not have more dis- 
composed the fraternity. Sentence of banish- 
ment was unanimously decreed ; but on his 
confessing that, like many celebrated wits, he 
was merely retailing other men's wares on 
Commission, he was for that once forgiven, on 
condition of refraining from such diabolical 
practices in future. Pindar is particularly 
outrageous against punsters ; and quite as- 
tonished and put me to a nonplus a day or 
two since, by asking abruptly " whether I 
thought a punster could be a good christian ?" 
He followed up his question triumphantly, 
by offering to prove, by sound logic and 
historical fact, that the Roman empire owed 
its decline and fall to a pun, and that nothing 
tended so much to demoralize the French 
nation as their abominable rage for jeux de 
mots. 

But what, above every thing else, has 
caused me much vexation of spirit, and dis- 
pleased me most with this stiff-necked nation 
js, that in spite of all the serious and pro- 



found censures of the sage Mustapha, in his 
various letters — they will talk! — they will 
still wag their tongues, and chatter like very 
slang-whangers ! This is a degree of obsti- 
nacy incomprehensible in the extreme, and is 
another proof how alarming is the force of 
habit, and how difficult it is to reduce beings, 
accustomed to talk, to that state of silence 
which is the very acme of human wisdom. 

We can only account for these disappoint- 
ments, in our moderate and reasonable ex- 
pectations, by supposing the world so deeply 
sunk in the mire of delinquency, that not 
even Hercules, were he to put his shoulder 
to the axletree, would be able to extricate it. 
We comfort ourselves, however, by tne re- 
flection that there are at least three good men 
left in this degenerate age, to benefit the 
world by example should precept ultimately 
fail. And borrowing, for once, an example 
from certain sleepy writers, who, after the 
first emotions of surprise at finding their 
invaluable effusions neglected or despised, 
console themselves with the idea that 'tis a 
stupid age and look forward to posterity for 
redress — we bequeath our first volume to 
future generations — and much good may it 
do them. Heaven grant they may be able to 
read it ! for, if our fashionable mode of 
education continues to improve, as of late, 
I am under serious apprehensions that the 
period is not far distant when the discipline 
of the dancing master will supersede that of 
the grammarian — crotchets and quavers sup- 
plant the alphabet — and the heels, by an 
antipodean manoeuvre, obtain entire pre- 
eminence over the head. How does my 
heart yearn for poor dear posterity, when this 
work shall become as unintelligible to our 
grandchildren as it seems to be to their grand- 
fathers and grandmothers. 

In fact, for I love to be candid, we begin 
to suspect that many people read our num. 
bers, merely for their amusement, without 
paying any attention to the serious truths 
conveyed in every page. Unpardonable want 
of penetration ! not that we wish to restrict 
our readers in the article of laughing — which 
we consider as one of the dearest prerogatives 
of man, and the distinguishing characteristic 
which raises him above all other animals ; 
let them laugh therefore if they will, provided 



SALMAGUNDI. 



sy 



they profit at the same time, and do not 
mistake our object. It is one of our indis* 
putable facts, that it is easier to laugh ten 
follies out of countenance, than to coax, rea- 
son, or flog a man out of one. In this odd, 
singular, and indescribable age, which is 
neither the age of gold, silver, iron, brass, 
chivalry, or pills, as Sir John Carr asserts, 
a grave writer who attempts to attack folly 
with the heavy artillery of moral reasoning, 
will fare like Smollet's honest pedant, who 
clearly demonstrated by angels, &c. after the 
manner of Euclid, that it was wrong to do 
evil, and was laughed at for his pains. Take 
my word for it, a little well-applied ridicule, 
like Hannibal's application of vinegar to 
rocks, will do more with certain hard heads 
and obdurate hearts than all the logic or 
demonstrations in Longinus or Euclid. But 
the people of Gotham, wise souls ! are so 
much accustomed to see morality approach 
them, clothed in formidable wigs and sable 
garbs, " with leaden eye that loves the 
ground," that they can never recognise her 
when, drest in gay attire, she comes tripping 
towards them with smiles and sunshine in 
her countenance. Well, let the rogues re- 
main in happy ignorance, for " ignorance is 
bliss," as the poet says ; and I put as implicit 
faith in poetry as I do in the almanack or the 
newspaper. We will improve them without 
their being the wiser for it, and they shall 
become better in spite of their teeth, and 
without their having the least suspicion of 
the reformation working within them. 

Among all our manifold grievances, how- 
ever, still some small but vivid rays of sun- 
shine occasionally brighten along our path, 
cheering our steps, and inviting us to per- 
severe. 

The public have paid some little regard to 
a few articles of our advice — they have pur- 
chased our numbers freely ; so much the 
better for our publisher — they have read them 
attentively ; so much the better for them- 
selves. The melancholy fate of my dear 
aunt Charity has had a wonderful effect ; and 
I have now before me a letter from a gentle- 
man who lives opposite to a couple of old 
ladies, remarkable for the interest they took 
in his affairs ; his apartments were abso- 
iutely in a state of blockade, and he was on 



the point of changing his lodgings, or capitu- 
lating, until the appearance of our ninth 
number, which he immediately sent over 
with his compliments — the good ladies took 
the hint, and have scarcely appeared at their 
window since. As to the wooden gentlemen, 
our friend Miss Sparkle assures me, they are 
wonderfully improved by our criticisms, and 
sometimes venture to make a remark, or 
attempt a pun in company, to the great edifi- 
cation of all who happen to understand them. 
As to red shawls, they are entirely discarded 
from the fair shoulders of our ladies, ever 
since the last importation of finery ; nor has 
any lady, since the cold weather, ventured to 
expose her elbows to the admiring gaze o* 
scrutinizing passengers. But there is one 
victory we have achieved, which has given us 
more pleasure than to have written down the 
whole administration: I am assured, from 
unquestionable authority, that our young 
ladies, doubtless in consequence of our 
weighty admonitions, have not once indulged 
in that intoxicating inflammatory, and whirli- 
gig dance, the waltz, ever since hot weather 
commenced. True it is, I understand, an 
attempt was made to exhibit it, by some of 
the sable fair ones, at the last African ball, 
but it was highly disapproved of by all the 
respectable elderly ladies present. 

These are sweet sources of comfort to atone 
for the many wrongs and misrepresentations 
heaped upon us by the world, for even wq 
have experienced its ilLnature. How often 
have we heard ourselves reproached for the 
insidious applications of the uncharitable !— ,. 
how often have we been accused of emotions 
which never found an entrance into our bo-, 
soms ! — how often have our sportive effusions 
been wrested to serve the purposes of parti* 
cular enmity and bitterness ! Meddlesome 
spirits ; little do they know our dispositions $ 
we " lack gall " to wouhd the feelings of a 
single innocent individual — we can even for, 
give them from the very bottom of our souls j 
may they meet as ready a forgiveness from 
their own consciences ! Like true and inde- 
pendent bachelors, having no domestic cares 
to interfere with our general benevolence, we 
consider it incumbent upon us to watcli over 
the welfare of society ; and although we are 
indebted to the world for little else than IcfW 



no 



SALMAGUNDI. 



handed favours, yet we feel a proud satisfac- 
tion in requiting evil with good, and the sneer 
of illiberality with the unfeigned smile of 
good-humour. With these mingled motives 
of selfishness and philanthropy we com- 
menced our work, and if we cannot solace 
ourselves with the consciousness of having 
done much good, yet there is still one pleasing 
consolation left, which the world can neither 
give nor take away. There are moments, 
lingering moments of listless indifference and 
heavy-hearted despondency, when our best 
hopes and affections slipping, as they some- 
times will, from their hold on those objects 
to which they usually cling for support, seem 
abandoned on the wide waste of cheerless ex- 
istence without a place to cast anchor, with- 
out a shore in view to excite a single wish, or 
to give a momentary interest to contempla- 
tion. We look back with delight upon many 
of these moments of mental gloom, whiled 
away by the cheerful exercise of our pen, and 
consider every such triumph over the spleen 
as retarding the furrowing hand of time in its 
insidious encroachments on our brows. If, 
in addition to our own amusements, we have, 
as we jogged carelessly laughing along, 
brushed away one tear of dejection, and called 
forth a smile in its place — if we have bright- 
ened the pale countenance of a single child of 
sorrow — we shall feel almost as much joy 
and rejoicing as a slang-whanger does when 
he bathes his pen in the heart's blood of a 
patron or benefactor ; or sacrifices one more 
illustrious victim on the altar of party ani- 
mosity. 



TO READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS. 

It is our misfortune to be frequently pesterea, 
in our peregrinations about this learned city, 
by certain critical gad-flies, who buzz around, 
and merely attack the skin without ever being 
able to penetrate the body. The reputation 
of our promising protege, Jeremy Cockloft 
the younger, has been assailed by these skin- 
deep critics ; they have questioned his claims 
to originality, and even hinted that the ideas 
for his New Jersey Tour were borrowed from 
a late work entitled " My Pocket-book." As 
there is no literary offence more despicable in 
the eyes of the trio than borrowing, we im- 



mediately called Jeremy to an account ; when 
he proved, by the dedication of the work in 
question, that it was first published in Lon- 
don in March, 1807, and that his " Stranger 
in New Jersey" had made its appearance on 
the 24th of the preceding February. 

We were on the point of acquitting Jeremy 
with honour, on the ground that it was im- 
possible, knowing as he is, to borrow from a 
foreign work one month before it was in ex- 
istence, when Will Wizard suddenly took up 
the cudgels for the critics, and insisted that 
nothing was more probable, for he recollected 
reading of an ingenious Dutch author, who 
plainly convicted the ancients of stealing from 
his labours ! — So much for criticism. 



We have received a host of friendly and ad- 
monitory letters from different quarters, and 
among the rest a very loving epistle from 
George-Town, Columbia, signed Teddy 
M'Gundy, who addresses us by the name of 
Saul M'Gundy, and insists that we are de- 
scended from the same Irish progenitors, and 
nearly related. As friend Teddy seems to 
be an honest, merry rogue, we are sorry 
that we cannot admit his claims to kindred : 
we thank him, however, for his good will, 
and should he ever be inclined to favour us 
with another epistle, we will hint to him, 
and at the same time to our other numerous 
correspondents, that their communications will 
be infinitely more acceptable if they will just 
recollect Tom Shuffleton's advice, " pay the 
post-boy, Muggins." 



No. 14. 

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 1807. 

LETTER 

FROM MUSTAI'HA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN 

To Asem Hacchem, principal slave-driver to 
his Highness the Bashaw of Tripoli. 

Health and joy to the friend of my heart ! 
May the angel of peace ever watch over thy 
dwelling, and the star of prosperity shed its 
benignant lustre on all thy undertakings. 
Far other is the lot of thy captive friend ; his 
brightened hopes extend but to a lengthened 
period of weary captivity, and memory only 
adds to the measure of his griefs, by holding 



SALMAGUNDI. 



Dl 



up a mirror which reflects with redoubled 
charms the hours of past felicity. In mid- 
night slumbers my soul holds sweet converse 
with the tender objects of its affections ; it is 
then the exile is restored to his country ; it is 
then the wide waste of waters that rolls be- 
tween us disappear, and I clasp to my bosom 
the companion of my youth ! I awake and 
find it is but a vision of the night. The sigh 
will rise, the tear of dejection will steal adown 
my cheek : I fly to my pen, and strive to 
forget myself, and my sorrows, in conversing 
with my friend. 

In such a situation, my good Asem, it can- 
not be expected that I should be able so wholly 
to abstract myself from my own feelings, as 
to give thee a full and systematic account of 
the singular people among whom my disas- 
trous lot has been cast. I can only find 
leisure, from my own individual sorrows, to 
entertain thee occasionally with some of the 
most prominent features of their character, 
and now and then a solitary picture of their 
most preposterous eccentricities. 

I have before observed that, among the 
distinguished characteristics of the people of 
this logocracy, is their invincible love of talk- 
ing ; and, that I could compare the nation to 
nothing but a mighty wind-mill. Thou art 
doubtless at a loss to conceive how this mill 
is supplied with grist; or, in other words, 
how it is possible to furnish subjects to sup- 
ply the perpetual motion of so many tongues. 

The genius of the nation appears in its 
highest lustre in this particular, in the disco- 
very or rather the application, of a subject 
which seems to supply an inexhaustible mine 
of words. It is nothing more, my friend, 
than politics ; a word, which, I declare to 
thee, has perplexed me almost as much as 
the redoubtable one of economy. On con- 
sulting a dictionary of this language, I found 
it denoted the science of government; and 
the relations, situations, and dispositions of 
states and empires. Good, thought I, for a 
people who boast of governing themselves, 
there could not be a more important subject 
of investigation. I therefore listened atten- 
tively, expecting to hear from " the most en- 
lightened people under the sun," for so they 
modestly term themselves, sublime disputa- 
tions on the science of legislation, and pre- 



cepts of political wisdom that would not have 
disgraced our great prophet and legislator 
himself ; but, alas, Asem ! how continually 
are my expectations disappointed ; how dig- 
nified a meaning does this word bear in the 
dictionary ; how despicable its common ap- 
plication ! I find it extending to every con- 
temptible discussion of local animosity, and 
every petty altercation of insignificant indivi- 
duals. It embraces alike all manner of con- 
cerns ; from the organization of a divan, the 
election of a bashaw, or the levying of an 
army, to the appointment of a constable, the 
personal disputes of two miserable slang- 
whangers, the cleaning of the streets, or the 
economy of a dirt-cart. A couple of politi- 
cians will quarrel, with the most vociferous 
pertinacity, about the character of a bum- 
bailiff whom nobody cares for, or the deport- 
ment of a little great man whom nobody 
knows ; and this is called talking politics : 
nay, it is but a few days since, that I was 
annoyed by a debate between two of my fel- 
low-lodgeis, who were magnanimously em- 
ployed in condemning a luckless wight to 
infamy, because he chose to wear a red coat, 
and to entertain certain erroneous opinions 
some thirty years ago. Shocked at their illi- 
beral and vindictive spirit, I rebuked them 
for thus indulging in slander and uncharita- 
blenesses, about the colour of a coat which 
had doubtless for many years been worn 
out, or the belief in errors, which, in all 
probability, had been long since atoned for 
and abandoned : but they justified them- 
selves by alleging that they were only en- 
gaged in politics, and exerting that liberty of 
speech, and freedom of discussion, which was 
the glory and safeguard of their national in- 
dependence. " O Mahomet !" thought I, 
" what a country must that be, which builds 
its political safety on ruined characters and 
the persecution of individuals !" 

Into what transports of surprise and incre- 
dulity am I continually betrayed, as the 
character of this eccentric people gradually 
developes itself to my observation. Every 
new research increases the perplexities in 
which I am involved, and I am more than 
ever at a loss where to place them in the scale 
of my estimation. It is thus the philosopher 
— in pursuing truth through the labyrinth of 



'32 



SALMAGUNDI. 



doubt, error, and misrepresentation — fre- 
quently finds himself bewildered in the mazes 
of contradictory experience ; and almost wishes 
he could quietly retrace his wandering steps, 
steal back into the path of honest ignorance, 
and jog on once more in contented indif- 
ference. 

Kow fertile in these contradictions is this 
extensive logocracy ! Men of different na- 
tions, manners, and languages, live in this 
country in the most perfect harmony ; and 
nothing is more common than to see indivi- 
duals, whose respective governments are at 
variance, taking each other by the hand and 
exchanging the offices of friendship. Nay, 
even on the subject of religion, in which, as 
it affects our dearest interests, our earliest 
opinions and prejudices, some warmth and 
heart-burnings might be excused ; which, 
even in our enlightened country, is so fruitful 
in difference between man and man — even re- 
ligion occasions no dissention among these 
people ; and it has even been discovered, by 
one of their sages, that believing in one God 
or twenty Gods " neither breaks a man's leg 
nor picks his pocket." The idolatrous Per- 
sian may here bow down before his everlasting 
fire, and prostrate himself towards the glow- 
ing east — the Chinese may adore his Fo, or 
his Josh — the Egyptian his stork — and the 
Mussulman practise, unmolested, the divine 
precepts of our immortal prophet. Nay, even 
the forlorn, abandoned Atheist, who lays 
down at night without committing himself to 
the protection of Heaven, and rises in the 
morning without returning thanks for his 
safety — w.ho hath no deity but his own will — 
whose soul, like the sandy desert, is barren 
of every flower of hope to throw a solitary 
bloom over the dead level of sterility, and 
soften the wide extent, of desolation — whose 
darkened views extend not beyond the horizon 
that bounds his cheerless existence — to whom 
no blissful perspective opens beyond the 
grave — even he is suffered to indulge in his 
desperate opinions, without exciting one other 
emotion than pity or contempt. But this 
mild and tolerating spirit reaches not beyond 
the pale of religion : once differ in politics, 
in mere theories, visions and chimeras, the 
growth of interest, of folly, or madness, and 
deadly warfare ensues— every eye flashes %e, 



every tongue is loaded with reproach, and 
every heart is filled with gall and bitterness. 

At this period several unjustifiable and 
serious injuries, on the part of the barbarians 
of the British islands, have given a new im- 
pulse to the tongue and the pen, and occa- 
sioned a terrible wordy fever. Do not sup- 
pose, my friend, that I mean to condemn 
any proper and dignified expression of resent- 
ment for injuries. On the contrary, I love 
to see a word before a blow, for '* in the ful- 
ness of the heart the tongue moveth." But 
my long experience has convinced me that 
people, who talk the most about taking sa- 
tisfaction for affronts, generally content them- 
selves with talking instead of revenging the 
insult : like the street women of this country, 
who, after a prodigious scolding, quietly sit 
down and fan themselves cool as fast as pos- 
sible. But to return : the rage for talking 
has now, in consequence of the aggressions 
I alluded to, increased to a degree far beyond 
what I have observed heretofore. In the 
gardens of his Highness of Tripoli are fifteen 
thousand bee-hives, three hundred peacocks, 
and a prodigious number of parrots and 
baboons — and yet I declare to thee, Asem, 
that their buzzing, and squalling, and chat- 
tering, is nothing compared to the wild up- 
roar, and war of words, now raging within 
the bosom of this mighty and distracted logo- 
cracy. Politics pervade every city, every 
village, every temple, every porter house — 
the universal question is, " what is the 
news ?" This is a kind of challenge to po- 
litical debate ; and as no two men think ex- 
actly alike, 'tis ten to one, but, before they 
finish, all the polite phrases in the language 
are exhausted by way of giving fire and 
energy to argument. What renders this talk- 
ing fever more alarming is, that the people 
appear to be in the unhappy state of a patient 
whose palate nauseates the medicine best cal- 
culated for the cure of his disease, and seem 
anxious to continue in the full enjoyment of 
their chattering epidemic. — They alarm each 
other by direful reports and fearful apprehen- 
sions : like as I have seen a knot of old wives 
in this country entertain themselves with 
stories of ghosts and goblins until their ima« 
ginations were in a most agonizing panic. 
Every day begets some new tale, big with 



SALMAGUNDI. 



<JS 



agitation ; and the busy goddess, Rumour, 
to speak in the poetic language of the Chris- 
tians, is constantly in motion. She mounts 
her rattling stage-waggon, and gallops about 
the country, freighted with a load of " hints," 
« informations," " extracts of letters from 
respectable gentlemen," " observations of re- 
spectable correspondents," and " unquestion- 
able authorities," which her high priests, 
the slang-whangers, retail to their sapient 
followers, with all the solemnity and all the 
authenticity of oracles. True it is, the un- 
fortunate slang-wh|?£ers are sometimes at a 
loss for food, to supply this insatiable appe- 
tite for intelligence ; and are, notunfrequently, 
reduced to the necessity of manufacturing 
dishes suited to the taste of the times, to be 
served up as morning and evening repasts to 
their disciples. 

When the hungry politician is thus full 
charged with important information, he sal- 
lies forth to give due exercise to his tongue, 
and tell all he knows to every body he meets. 
Now it is a thousand to one that every person 
he meets is just as wise as himself, charged 
with the same articles of information, and 
possessed of the same violent inclination to 
give it vent ; for in this country every man 
adopts some particular slang-whanger as the 
standard of his judgment, and reads every 
thing he writes if he reads nothing else; 
which is doubtless the reason why the people 
of this logocracy are so marvellously enlight- 
ened. So away they tilt at each other with 
their borrowed lances, advancing to the com- 
bat with the opinions and speculations of 
their respective slang-whangers, which, in 
all probability, are diametrically opposite : 
here then arises as fair an opportunity for a 
battle of words as heart could wish ; and 
thou mayest rely upon it, Asem, they do not 
let it pass unimproved. They sometimes 
begin with argument, but in process of time, 
as the tongue begins to wax wanton, other 
auxiliaries become necessary — recrimination 
commences — reproach follows close at its 
heels — from political abuse they proceed to 
personal, and thus often is a friendship of 
years trampled down by this contemptible 
enemy, this gigantic dwarf of roLiTics— 
the mongrel issue of grovelling ambition and 
aspiring ignorance ! 



There would be but little harm indeed in 
all this, if it ended merely in a broken head 
— for this might soon be healed, and the 
scar, if any remained, might serve as a 
warning ever after against the indulgence of 
political intemperance : at the worst, the loss 
of such heads as these would be a gain to the 
nation. But the evil extends far deeper ; it 
threatens to impair all social intercourse, and 
even to sever the sacred union of family and 
kindred. The convivial table is disturbed — 
the cheerful fire-side is invaded — the smile of 
social hilarity is chased away — the bond of 
social love is broken by the everlasting intru- 
sion of this fiend of contention who lurks in 
the sparkling bowl, crouches by the fire-side, 
growls in the friendly circle, infests every 
avenue to pleasure; and, like the scowling 
incubus, sits on the bosom of society, pres- 
sing down and smothering every throb and 
pulsation of liberal philanthropy. 

But thou wilt perhaps ask, " What can 
these people dispute about ? one would sup- 
pose that being all free and equal, they would 
harmonize as brothers ; children of the same 
parent, and equal heirs of the same inheri- 
tance." This theory i.s most exquisite, my 
good friend, but in practice it turns out the 
very dream of a madman. Equality, Asem, 
is one of the most consummate scoundrels 
that ever crept from the brain of a political 
juggler — a fellow who thrusts his hand into 
the pocket of honest industry, or enterprising 
talent, and squanders their hard earned pro- 
fits on profligate idleness or indolent stupidity. 
There will always be an inequality among 
mankind so long as a portion of it is enlight- 
ened and industrious, and the rest idle and 
ignorant. The one will acquire a larger share 
of wealth, and its attendant comforts, re- 
finements, and luxuries of life, and the in- 
fluence and power, which those will always 
possess who have the greatest ability of ad- 
ministering to the necessities of their fellow- 
creatures. These advantages will inevitably 
excite envy, and envy as inevitably begets 
ill-will : — hence arises that eternal warfare, 
which the lower orders of society are waging 
against those who have raised themselves by 
their own merits, or have been raised by the 
merits of their ancestors, above the common 
level. In a nation possessed of quick feel- 



94 



SALMACIL'NDI. 



ings and impetuous passions, this hostility 
might engender deadly broils and bloody 
commotions : but here it merely vents itself 
in high sounding words, which lead to con- 
tinual breaches of decorum ; or in the insi- 
dious assassination of character, and a rest- 
less propensity among the base to blacken 
every reputation which is fairer than their 
own. 

I cannot help smiling sometimes to see the 
solicitude with which the people of America, 
so called from the country having been first 
discovered by Christopher Columbus, battle 
about them when any election takes place ; 
as if they had the least concern in the matter, 
or were to be benefitted by an exchange of 
bashaws ! — They really seem ignorant that 
none, but the bashaws and their dependants, 
are at all interested in the event ; and that 
the people at large will not find their situation 
altered in the least. I formerly gave thee an 
account of an election, which took place 
under my eye. The result has been, that 
the people, as some of the slang-whangers 
say, have obtained a glorious triumph ; which, 
however, is flatly denied by the opposite 
slang-whangers, who insist that their party 
is composed of the true sovereign people; 
and that the others are all jacobins, French- 
men, and Irish rebels. I ought to apprize 
thee, that the last is a term of great reproach 
here; which, perhaps, thou wouldst not 
otherwise imagine, consideiing that it is not 
many years since this very people were en- 
gaged in a revolution, the failure of which 
would have subjected them to the same ig- 
nominious epithet, and a participation in 
which is now the highest recommendation to 
public confidence. By Mahomet, but it can- 
not be denied, that the consistency of this 
people, like every thing else appertaining to 
them, is on a prodigious great scale! To 
return, however, to the event of the election. 
— The people triumphed; and much good 
has it done them. I, for my part, expected 
to see wonderful changes, and most magical 
metamorphoses. I expected to see the peo- 
ple all rich, that they would be all gentlemen 
bashaws, riding in their coaches, and faring 
sumptuously every day ; emancipated from 
toil, and revelling in luxurious ease. "Wilt 
thou credit me, Asera, when I declare to 



thee, that every thing remains exactly in the 
same state it was before the last wordy cam- 
paign ; except a few noisy retainers, who 
have crept into office, and a few noisy pa- 
triots, on the other side, who have been 
kicked out, there is not the least difference. 
The labourer toils for his daily support ; the 
beggar still lives on the charity of those who 
have any charity to bestow; and the only 
solid satisfaction the multitude have reaped 
is, that they have got a new governor, or 
bashaw, whom they will praise, idolize, and 
exalt for a while ; and afterwards, notwith- 
standing the sterling merits he really pos- 
sesses, in compliance with immemorial cus- 
tom, they will abuse, calumniate, and trample 
under foot. 

Such, my dear Asem, is the way in which 
the wise people of " the most enlightened 
country under the sun," are amused with 
straws, and puffed up with mighty conceits ; 
like a certain fish I have seen here, which 
having his belly tickled for a short time, will 
swell and puff himself up to twice his usual 
size, and become a mere bladder of wind and 
vanity. 

The blessing of a true Mussulman light on 
thee, good Asem ; ever while thou livest, be 
true to thy prophet ; and rejoice, that, though 
the boasting political chatterers of this logo- 
cracy cast upon thy countrymen the igno- 
minious epithet of slaves, thou livest in a 
country where the people, instead of being 
at the mercy of a tyrant with a million 
of heads, have nothing to do but submit to 
the will of a bashaw of only three tails. 
Ever thine, 

MUSTAPHA. 



COCKLOFT HALL. 

BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

Those who pass their time immured in the 
smpky circumference of the city, amid the 
rattling of carts, and brawling of the multi- 
tude, and the variety of unmeaning and 
discordant sounds that prey insensibly upon 
the nerves, and beget a weariness of the 
spirits, can alone understand and feel that 
expansion of the heart, that physical renova- 
tion which a citizen experiences when he 
steals forth from his dusty prison to breathe 



SALMAGUNDI. 



S3 



the free air of heaven, and enjoy the clear 
face of nature. Who that has rambled by 
the side of one of our majestic rivers, at the 
hour of sun-set, when the wildly romantic 
scenery around is softened and tinted by the 
voluptuous mist of evening ; when the bold 
and swelling outlines of the distant mountain 
seem melting into the glowing horizon, and a 
rich mantle of refulgence is thrown over the 
whole expanse of the heavens, but must; have 
felt how abundant is nature in sources of pure 
enjoyment ; how luxuriant in all that can 
enliven the senses or delight the imagination. 
The jocund zephyr, full freighted with native 
fragrance, sues sweetly to the senses ; the 
chirping of the thousand varieties of insects 
with which our woodlands abound, forms a 
concert of simple melody ; even the barking 
of the farm dog, the lowing of the cattle, the 
tinkling of their bells, and the strokes of the 
woodman's axe from the opposite shore, 
seem to partake of the softness of the scene, 
and fall tunefully upon the ear ; while the 
voice of the villager, chanting some rustic 
ballad, swells from a distance, in the sem- 
blance of the very music of harmonious 
love. 

At such time I feel a sensation of sweet 
tranquillity ; a hallowed calm is diffused 
over my senses ; I cast my eyes around, and 
every object is serene, simple, and beautiful ; 
no waning passion, no discordant string there 
vibrates to the touch of ambition, self-interest, 
hatred or revenge ; — I am at peace with the 
whole world, and hail all mankind as 
friends and brothers. Blissful moments ! ye 
recall the careless days of my boyhood, when 
mere existence was happiness, when hope 
was certainty, this world a paradise, and every 
woman a ministering angel ! — surely man 
was designed for a tenant of the universe, 
instead of being pent up in these dismal 
cages, these dens of strife, disease, and dis- 
cord. We were created to range the fields, 
to sport among the groves, to build castles 
in the air, and have every one of them 
realized ! 

A whole legion of reflections like these in- 
sinuated themselves into my mind, and stole 
me from the influence of the cold realities 
before me, as I took my accustomed walk, a 
few weeks since, on the battery. Here watch- 



ing the splendid mutations of one of our 
summer skies, which emulated the boasted 
glories of an Italian sun-set, I all at once 
discovered that it was but to pack up my 
portmanteau, bid adieu for a while to my 
elbow-chair, and in a little time I should be 
transported from the region of smoke, and 
noise, and dust, to the enjoyment of a far 
sweeter prospect and a brighter sky. The 
next morning I was off full tilt to Cockloft 
Hall, leaving my man Pompey to follow at 
his leisure with my baggage. I love to 
indulge in rapid transitions, which are 
prompted by the quick impulse of the 
moment ; — 'tis the only mode of guarding 
against that intruding and deadly foe to all 
parties of pleasure — anticipation. 

Having now made good my retreat, until 
the black frosts commence, it is but a piece 
of civility due to my readers, who I trust are, 
ere this, my friends, to give them a proper 
introduction to my present residence. I do 
this as much to gratify them as myself; 
well knowing a reader is always anxious to 
learn how his author is lodged, whether in a 
garret, a cellar, a hovel, or a palace ; at least 
an author is generally vain enough to think 
so ; and an author's vanity ought sometimes 
to be gratified : poor vagabond ! it is often 
the only gratification he ever tastes in this 
world ! 

Cockloft Hall is the country residence of 
the family, or rather the paternal mansion ; 
which like the mother country, sends forth 
whole colonies to populate the face of the 
earth. Pindar whimsically denominates it 
the family hive ! and there is at least as much 

truth as humour in my cousin's epithet ; 

for many a redundant swarm has it produced. 
I don't recollect whether I have at any time 
mentioned to my readers, for I seldom look 
back on what I have written, that the fertility 
of the Cocklofts is proverbial. The female 
members of the family are most incredibly 
fruitful; and to use a favourite phrase of 
old Cockloft, who is excessively addicted to 
back-gammon, they seldom fail " to throw 
doublets every time." I myself have known 
three or four very industrious young men re- 
duced to great extremities, with some of 
these capital breeders ; heaven smiled upon 
their union, and enriched them with a nu- 



DO 



SALMAGUNDI. 



merous and hopeful offspring — who eat them 
out of doors. 

But to return to the hall.— It is pleasantly 
situated on the bank of a sweet pastoral 
stream ; not so near town as to invite an 
inundation of unmeaning, idle acquaintance, 
who come to lounge away an afternoon, nor 
so distant as to render it an absolute deed of 
charity or friendship to perform the journey. 
It is one of the oldest habitations in the coun- 
try, and was built by my cousin Christo- 
pher's grandfather, who was also mine by the 
mother's side, in his latter days, to form, as 
the old gentleman expressed himself, " a 
snug retreat, where he meant to sit himself 
down in his old days, and be comfortable for 
the rest of his life." He was at this time a 
few years over four score : but this was a 
common saying of his, with which he usually 
closed his airy speculations. One would 
have thought, from the long vista of years 
through which he contemplated many of his 
projects, that the good man had forgot the 
age of the patriarchs had long since gone by, 
and calculated upon living a century longer 
at least. He was for a considerable time in 
doubt, on the question of roofing his house 
with shingles or slate : — shingles would not 
last above thirty years ; but then they were 
much cheaper than slates. He settled the 
matter by a kind of compromise, and deter- 
mined to build with shingle first : " and 
when they are worn out," said the old gentle- 
man, triumphantly, " 'twill be time enough 
to replace them with more durable materials." 
But his contemplated improvements sur- 
passed every thing; and scarcely had he 
a roof over his head, when he discovered 
a thousand things to be arranged beTore he 
could " sit down comfortably." In the first 
place every tree and bush on the place was 
cut down or grubbed up by the roots, because 
they were not placed to his mind ; and a 
vast quantity of oaks, chestnuts, and elms, 
set out in clumps and rows, and labyrinths, 
which, he observed, in about five-and-twenty 
or thirty years at most, would yield a very 
tolerable shade, and moreover shut out all 
the surrounding country ; for he was deter- 
mined, he said, to have all his views on his 
own land, and be beholden to no man for a 
prospect This, my learned readers will per- 



ceive, was something very like the idea of 
Lorenzo de Medici who gave as a reason for 
preferring one of his seats above all the others, 
" that all the ground within view of it, was 
his own ;" now, whether my grandfather ever 
heard of the Medici, is more than I can say; 
I rather think, however, from the charac- 
teristic originality of the Cocklofts, that it 

was a whim-wham of his own begetting 

Another odd notion of the old gentleman, 
was to blow up a large bed of rocks for the 
purpose of having a fish-pond, although the 
river ran at about one hundred yards distance 
from the house, and was well stored with 
fish ; — but there was nothing, he said, like 
having things to one self. So at it he went 
with all the ardour of a projector, who has 
just hit upon some splendid and useless whim- 
wham. As he proceeded, his views enlarged ; 
he would have a summer-house built on the 
margin of the fish-pond ; he would have it 
surrounded with elms and willows; and he 
would have a cellar dug under it, for some 
incomprehensible purpose, which remains a 
secret to this day. " In a few years," he 
observed, " it would be a delightful piece of 
wood and water, where he might ramble on a 
summer's noon, smoke his pipe, and enjoy 
himself in his old days :" — thiice honest old 
soul ! — he died of an apoplexy, in his ninetieth 
year, just as he had begun to blow up the 
fish-pond. 

Let no one ridicule the whim-whams of my 
grandfather. If—and of this there is no 
doubt, for wise men have said it — if life is 
but a dream, happy is he who can make the 
most of the illusion. 

Since my grandfather's death, the hall has 
passed through the hands of a succession of 
true old cavaliers, like himself, who gloried 
in observing the golden rules of hospitality ; 
which, according to the Cockloft principle, 
consist in giving a guest the freedom of the 
house, cramming him with beef and pudding, 
and if possible, laying him under the table 
with prime Port, Claret or London particular. 
The mansion appears to have been consecrated 
to the jolly god, and teems with monuments 
sacred to conviviality. Every chest of 
drawers, clothes-press, and cabinet, is deco- 
rated with enormous china punch-bowls, 
which Mrs. Cockloft has paraded with much' 



SALMAGUNDI. 



m 



ostentation, particularly in her favourite red 
damask bed-chamber, and in which a pro- 
jector might with great satisfaction practise 
his experiments on fleets, diving-bells, and 
sub-marine boats. 

I have before mentioned cousin Christo- 
pher's profound veneration for antique furni- 
ture ; in consequence of which, the old hall 
is furnished in much the same style with the 
house in town. Old fashioned bedsteads, with 
high testers ; massy clothes-presses, standing 
most majestically on eagle's claws, and orna- 
mented with a profusion of shining brass han- 
dles, clasps, and hinges ; and around the grand 
parlour are solemnly ranged a set of high- 
backed, leather-bottomed, massy, mahogany 
chairs, that always remind me of the formal 
long-waisted belles, who nourished in stays 
and buckram, about the time they were in 
fashion 

If I may judge from their height it was not 
the fashion for gentlemen in those days to 
loll over the back of a lady's chair, and 
whisper in her ear what — might be as well 
spoken aloud ; at least they must have been 
Patagonians to have effected it. Will 
Wizard declares that he saw a little fat 
German gallant attempt once to whisper 
Miss Barbara Cockloft in this manner, but 
being unluckily caught by the chin, he 
dangled and kicked about for half a minute, 
before he could find terra firma ; — but Will 
is much addicted to hyperbole, by reason of 
his having been a great traveller. 

But what the Cocklofts most especially 
pride themselves upon, is the possession of 
several family portraits, which exhibit as 
honest a square set of portly well-fed-looking 
gentlemen, and gentlewomen, as ever grew 
and flourished under the pencil of a Dutch 
painter. Old Christopher, who is a complete 
genealogist, has a story to tell of each ; and 
dilates with copious eloquence on the great 
services of the general in large sleeves, during 
the old French war ; and on the piety of the 
lady in blue velvet, who so attentively peruses 
her book, and was once so celebrated for a 
beautiful arm : but much as I reverence my 
illustrious ancestors, I find little to admire in 
their biography, except my cousin's excellent 
memory ; which is most provokingly reten- 
tive o( every uninteresting particular. 
H 



My allotted chamber in the hall is the 
same that was occupied in days of yore by 
my honoured uncle John. The room exhi- 
bits many memorials which recall to my 
remembrance the solid excellence and amiable 
eccentricities of that gallant old lad. Over 
the mantlepiece hangs the portrait of a young 
lady, dressed in a flaring, long-waisted, blue 
silk gown ; be-flowered, and be-furbelowed, 
and be-cuffed, in a most abundant manner ; 
she holds in one hand a book, which she very 
complaisantly neglects to turn and smile on 
the spectator ; in the other a flower which I 
hope, for the honour of dame Nature, was 
the sole production of the painter's imagina- 
tion ; and a little behind her is something 
tied to a blue riband ; but whether a little 
dog, a monkey, or a pigeon, must be left to 
the judgment of future commentators. This 
little damsel, tradition says, was my uncle 
John's third flame; and he would infalli- 
bly have run away with her, could he have 
persuaded her into the measure ; but at that 
time ladies were not quite so easily run away 
with as Columbine ; and my uncle, failing in 
the point, took a lucky thought, and with 
great gallantry run off with her picture, whicl* 
he conveyed in triumph to Cockloft-hall, and 
hung up in his bed-chamber as a monument 
of his enterprising spirit. The old gentleman 
prided himself mightily on his chivalric ma- 
noeuvre ; always chuckled, and pulled up his 
stock when he contemplated the picture, and 
never related the exploit without winding up 
" I might, indeed, have carried off the origi- 
nal, but I chose to dangle a little longer after 
her chariot wheels ; — for, to do the girl jus- 
tice, I believe she had a Eking for me ; but 
I always scorned to coax, my boy — always— 
'twas my way." My uncle John was of a 
happy temperament ;— I would give half 
I am worth for his talent at self-consola- 
tion. 

The Miss Cocklofts have made several 
spirited attempts to introduce modern furni- 
ture into the hall, but with very indifferent 
success. Modern style has always been an 
object of great annoyance to honest Christo- 
pher ; and is ever treated by him with 
sovereign contempt, as an upstart intruder. 
It is a common observation of his, that your 
old-fashioned substantial furniture bespeak* 



08 



SALMAGUNDI. 



the respectability of one's ancestors, and 
indicates that the family has been used to 
hold up its head for more than the present 
generation ; whereas the fragile appendages 
of modern style seem to be emblems of mush- 
room gentility ; and, to his mind, predicted 
that the family dignity would moulder away 
and vanish with the finery thus put on of a 
sudden. The same whim-wham makes him 
averse to having his house surrounded with 
poplars ; which he stigmatizes as mere up- 
starts ; just fit to ornament the shingle 
palaces of modern gentry, and characteristic 
of the establishments they decorate. Indeed, 
so far does he carry his veneration for all the 
antique trumpery, that he can scarcely see 
the venerable dust brushed from its resting 
place on the old-fashioned testers, or a grey- 
bearded spider .dislodged from his ancient 
inheritance, without groaning; and I once 
saw him in a transport of passion on Jeremy's 
knocking down a mouldering martin-coop, 
with his tennis-ball, which had been set up 
in the latter days of my grandfather. Another 
object of his peculiar affection is an old 
English cherry tree, which leans against a 
torner of the hall ; and whether the house 
supports it, or it supports the house, would 
be, I believe, a question of some difficulty to 
decid . It is held sacred by friend Christo- 
pher because' he planted and reared it himself, 
and had once well nigh broke his neck by a 
fall from one of its branches. This is one ol 
his favourite stories ; — and there is reason to 
believe that if the tree was out of the way, 
the old gentleman would forget the whole 

affair ; which would be a great pity. The 

old tree has long since ceased bearing, and is 
exceedingly infirm ; every tempest robs it of 
a limb ; and one would suppose from the 
lamentations of my old friend, on such occa- 
sions, that he had lost one of his own. He 
often contemplates it in a half-melancholy, 
half-moralizing humour :— *" together," he 
says, " have we flourished, and together shall 
we wither away : — a few years, and both our 
heads will be laid low ; and, perhaps, my 
mouldering bones may, one day or other, 
mingle with the dust of the tree. I have 
planted." He often fancies, he says, that 
it rejoices to see him when he revisits the 
hall ; . and that its leaves assume a brighter 



verdure, as if to welcome his arrival. How 
whimsically are our tenderest feelings as- 
sailed ! At one time the old tree had 
obtruded a withered branch before Miss 
Barbara's window, and she desired her father 
to order the gardener to saw it off. I shall 
never forget the old man's answer, and the 
look that accompanied it. " What," cried 
he, " lop off the limbs of my cherry tree in 
its old age ? — why do you not cut off the 
grey locks of your poor old father ?" 

Do my readers yawn at this long family' 
detail ? they are welcome to throw down our 
work, and never resume it again. I have no 
care for such ungratified spirits, and will not 
throw away a thought on one of them. Full 
often have I contributed to their amusement, 
and have I not a right for once to consult my 
own ? Who is there that does not fondly 
turn at times to linger round those scenes 
which were once the haunt of his boyhood, 
ere his heart grew heavy and his head waxed 
grey ; and to dwell with fond affection on the 
friends who have twined themselves round 
his heart — mingled in all his enjoyments — 
contributed to all his felicities ? If there 
be any who cannot relish these enjoyments, 
let them despair — for they have been so soiled 
in their intercourse with the world, as to be 
incapable of tasting some of the purest 
pleasures that survive the happy period of 
youth. 

To such as have not yet lost the rural 
feeling I address this simple family picture ; 
and in the honest sincerity of a warm heart 
I invite them to turn aside from bustle, care, 
and toil — to tarry with me for a season in the 
hospitable mansion of the Cocklofts. 



I was really apprehensive on reading the 
following effusion of Will Wizard, that he 
still retained that pestilent hankering after 
puns of which we lately convicted him. He, 
however, declares that he is fully authorised 
by the example of the most popular critics 
and wits of the present age, whose manner 
and matter he has closely, and he flatters 
himself successfully, copied in the subsequent 
essay. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



90 



THEATRICAL INTELLIGENCE. 

BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

The uncommon healthiness of the season 
occasioned, as several learned physicians as- 
sure me, by the universal prevalence of the 
influenza, has encouraged the chieftain of our 
dramatic corps to marshal his forces, and 
commence the campaign at a much earlier 
day than usual. He has been induced to 
take the field, thus suddenly, I am told, by 
the invasion of certain foreign marauders, 
who pitched their tents at Vauxhall-Gardens 
during the warm months, and taking advan- 
tage of his army being disbanded and dis- 
persed in summer quarters, committed sad 
depredations upon the borders of his territo- 
ries — carrying off a considerable portion of 
his winter harvest, and murdering some of 
his most distinguished characters. 

It is true these hardy invaders have been 
reduced to great extremity by the late heavy 
rains, which injured and destroyed much of 
their camp-equipage, besides spoiling the 
best part of their wardrobe. Two cities, a 
triumphal car, and a new moon for Cinder- 
ella, together with the barber's boy who was 
employed every night to powder and make it 
shine white, have been entirely washed away, 
and the sea has become very wet and mouldy 
—insomuch that great apprehensions are en- 
tertained that it will never be dry enough for 
use. Add to this the noble county Paris had 
the misfortune to tear his corduroy breeches 
in the scuffle with Romeo, by reason of the 
tomb being very wet, which occasioned him 
to slip ; and he and his noble rival possess- 
ing but one poor pair of satin ones between 
them, were reduced to considerable shifts to 
keep up the dignity of their respective houses. 
In spite of these disadvantages and untoward 
circumstances, they continued to enact most 
intrepidly — performing with much ease and 
confidence, inasmuch as they were seldom 
pestered with an audience to criticise and 
put them out of countenance. It is rumour- 
ed that the last heavy shower has absolutely 
dissolved the company, and that our manager 
has nothing further to apprehend from that 
quarter. 

The theatre opened on Wednesday last 
with great eclat, as we critics say, and almost 
H 2 



vied in brilliancy with that of my superb 
friend Consequa in Canton ; wheae the castles 
were all ivory, the sea mother of pearl, the 
skies gold and silver leaf, and the outside of 
the boxes inlaid with scallop shell-work. 
Those who want a better description of the 
theatre, may as well go and see it ; and then 
they can judge for themselves. For the gra- 
tification of a highly respectable class of rea- 
ders, who love to see every thing on paper. 
I had indeed prepared a circumstantial and! 
truly incomprehensible account of it, such as 
your traveller always fills his book with, and 
which I defy the most intelligent architect, 
even the great Sir Christopher Wren, to un- 
derstand. I had jumbled cornices, and pi- 
lasters, and pillars, and capitals, and tri- 
gliphs, and modules, and plinths, and volutes, 
and perspectives, and foreshortenings, helter- 
skelter ; and had set all the orders of archi- 
tecture, Doric, Ionic, Corinthian, &c. together 
by the ears, in order to work out a satisfac- 
tory description ; but the manager having 
sent me a polite note, requesting that I would 
not take off the sharp edge, as he whimsi- 
cally expresses it, of public curiosity, thereby 
diminishing the receipts of his house, I have 
willingly consented to oblige him, and have 
left my description at the store of our pub- 
lisher, where any person may see it, provided 
he applies at a proper hour. 

I cannot refrain here from giving vent to 
the satisfaction I received from the excellent 
performances of the different actors, one and 
all ; and particularly the gentlemen who shift-, 
ed the scenes, who acquitted themselves 
throughout with great celerity, dignity, pa- 
thos, and effect. Nor must I pass over the 
peculiar merits of my friend John, who gal- 
lanted off the chairs and tables in the most 
dignified and circumspect manner. Indeed I 
have had frequent occasion to applaud the 
correctness with which this gentleman fulfils 
the parts allotted him, and consider him as 
one of the best general performers in the com- 
pany. My friend, the cockney, found con- 
siderable fault with the manner in which John 
shoved a huge rock from behind the scenes, 
maintaining that he should have put his left 
foot forward and pushed it with his right 
hand, that being the method practised by his 
contemporaries of the royal theatres, and 



ICO 



SALMAGUNDI. 



universally approved by their best critics. 
He also took exceptions to John's coat, which 
he pronounced too short by a foot at least — 
particularly when he turned his back to the 
company. But I look upon these objections 
in the same light as new readings, and insist 
that John shall be allowed to manoeuvre his 
chairs and tables, shove his rocks, and wear 
his skirts in that style which his genius best 
affects. My hopes in the rising merit of this 
favourite actor daily increases ; and I would 
hint to the manager the propriety of giving 
him a benefit, advertising in the usual style 
of play-bills, as a " springe to catch wood- 
cocks," that between the play and farce John 
will make a bow — for that night only ! 

I am told that no pains have been spared 
to make the exhibitions of this season as. 
splendid as possible. Several expert rat- 
catchers have been sent into different parts of 
the country to catch white mice for the grand 
pantomime of Cinderella. A nest-full of 
little squab Cupids have been taken in the 
neighbourhood of Cummunipaw ; they are 
as yet but half fledged, of the true Holland 
breed, and it is hoped will be able to fly 
about by the middle of October — otherwise 
they will be suspended about the stage by 
the waistband, like little alligators in an 
apothecary's shop, as the pantomime must 
positively be performed by that time. Great 
pains and expense have been incurred in the 
importation of one of the most portly pump- 
kins in New-England ; and the public may 
be assured there is now one on board a vessel 
from New-Haven, which will contain Cin- 
derella's coach and six with perfect ease, were 
the white mice even ten times as large. 

Also several barrels of hail, rain, brim- 
stone, and gunpowder, are in store for melo- 
drames — of which a number are to be played 
off this winter. It is furthermore whispered 
me that the great thunder drum has been new 
braced, and an expert performer on that in- 
strument engaged, who will thunder in plain 
English, so as to be understood by the most 
illiterate hearer. This will be infinitely pre- 
ferable to the miserable Italian thunderer, 
employed last winter by Mr. Ciceri, who per- 
formed in such an unnatural and outlandish 
tongue, that none but the scholars of Signior 
Da Ponte could understand him. It will be 



a further gratification to the patriotic audience 
to know that the present thunderer is a fellow 
countryman, born at Dunderbarrack among 
the echoes of the highlands ; and that he 
thunders with peculiar emphasis and pom- 
pous enunciation, in the true style of a 
fourth of July orator. 

In addition to all these additions, the ma- 
nager has provided an entire new snow-storm 
— the very sight of which will be quite suffi- 
cient to draw a shawl over every naked bosom 
in the theatre. The snow is perfectly fresh 
having been manufactured last August. 

N. B. The outside of the theatre has been 
ornamented with a new chimney ! ! 



No. 15. 

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1307- 

SKETCHES FROM NATURE. 

BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

The brisk North-westers, which prevailed 
not long since, had a powerful effect in 
arresting the progress of belles, beaux, and 
wild pigeons in their fashionable northern 
tour, and turning them back to the more 
balmy region of the south. Among the rest 
I was encountered, full butt, by a blast 
which set my teeth chattering, just as I dou- 
bled one of the frowning bluffs of the Mo- 
hawk mountains, in my route to Niagara; 
and facing about incontinently, I forthwith 
scudded before the wind, and a few da/s since 
arrived at my old quarters in New- York. 
My first care on returning from so long an 
absence was to visit the worthy family of the 
Cocklofts, whom I found safe burrowed in 
their country mansion. On inquiring for my 
highly respected coadjutor, Langstaff, I 
learned with great concern that he had re- 
lapsed into one of his eccentric fits of the 
spleen, ever since the era of a turtle dinner 
given by old Cockloft to some of the neigh- 
bouring squires ; wherein the old gentleman 
had achieved a glorious victory, in laying 
honest Launcelot fairly under the table. 
Langstaff, although fond of the social board, 
and cheerful glass, yet abominates any ex- 
cess ; and has an invincible aversion to get- 
ting mellow, considering it a wilful outrage 



Salmagundi. 



101 



on the sanctity of imperial mind, a senseless 
abuse of the body, and an unpardonable, be- 
cause a voluntary, prostration of both men- 
tal and personal dignity. I have heard him 
moralize on the subject, in a style that would 
have done honour to Michael Cassio himself: 
but I believe, if the truth were known, this 
antipathy rather arises from his having, as 
the phrase is, but a weak head, and nerves 
so extremely sensitive, that he is sure to suffer 
severely from a frolic ; and will groan and 
make resolutions against it for a week after- 
wards. He therefore took this waggish ex- 
ploit of old Christopher's, and the consequent 
quizzing which he underwent, in high dud- 
geon ; had kept aloof from company for a 
fortnight, and appeared to be meditating some 
deep plan of retaliation upon his mischievous 
old crony. He had, however, for the last 
day or two, shown some symptoms of con- 
valescence ; had listened, without more than 
half a dozen twitches of impatience, to one 
of Christopher's unconscionable long stories — 
and even was seen to smile, for the one hun- 
dred and thirtieth time, at a venerable joke 
originally borrowed from Joe Miller, but 
which, by dint of long occupancy, and fre- 
quent repetition, the old gentleman now 
firmly believes happened to himself some- 
where in New-England. 

As I am well acquainted with Launcelot's 
haunts, I soon found him out. He was loll- 
ing on his favourite bench, rudely construct- 
ed at the foot of an old tree, which is full of 
fantastical twists, and with its spreading 
branches forms a canopy of luxuriant foliage. 
This tree is a kind of chronicle of the short 
reigns of his uncle John's mistresses ; and 
its trunk is sorely wounded with carvings of 
true lovers knots, hearts, darts, names, and 
inscriptions ! — frail memorials of the variety 
of the fair dames who captivated the wandering 
fancy of that old cavalier in the days of his 
youthful romance. Launcelot holds this tree 
in particular regard, as he does every thing 
else connected with the memory of his good 
uncle John. — He was reclining in one of his 
usual brown studies, against its trunk, and 
gazing pensively upon the river that glided 
just by, washing the drooping branches of 
the dwarf willows that fringed its bank. My 
appearance roused him ; — he grasped my hand 



with his usual warmth, and with a tremulous 
but close pressure, which spoke that his 
heart entered into the salutation. After a 
number of affectionate inquiries and felici- 
tations — such as friendship, not form, dic- 
tated, he seemed to relapse into his former 
flow of thought, and to resume the chain of 
ideas my appearance had broken for a mo- 
ment. 

" I was reflecting," said he, " my dear 
Anthony, upon some observations I made in 
our last number; and considering whether 
the sight of objects once dear to the affections, 
or of scenes where we have passed different 
happy periods of early life, really occasions 
most enjoyment or most regret. Renewing 
our acquaintance with well-known but long 
separated objects, revives, it is true, the re- 
collection of former pleasures, and touches 
the tenderest feelings of the heart ; like the 
flavour of a delicious beverage will remain 
upon the palate long after the cup has parted 
from the lips. But, on the other hand, my 
friend, these same objects are too apt to 
awaken us to a keener recollection of what we 
were when they first delighted us ; and to 
provoke a mortifying and melancholy contrast 
with what we are at present. They act, in a 
manner, as mile-stones of existence, show- 
ing us how far we have travelled in the jour- 
ney of life ; — how much of our weary but 
fascinating pilgrimage is accomplished. I 
look round me, and my eye fondly recognises 
the fields I once sported over, the river in 
which 1 once swam, and the orchard I intre- 
pidly robbed in the halcyon days of boyhood. 
The fields are still green, the river still rolls 
unaltered and undiminished, and the orchard 
is still flourishing and fruitful ; — it is I only 
am changed. The thoughtless flow of mad- 
cap spirits that nothing could depress ; — the 
elasticity of nerve that enabled me to bound 
over the field, to stem the stream, and climb 
the tree ; — the ' sunshine of the breast ? that 
beamed an illusive charm over every object, 
and created a paradise around me ! — where 
are they ? — the thievish lapse of years has 
stolen them away, and left in return nothing 
but grey hairs, and a repining spirit." My 
friend Launcelot concluded his harangue with 
a sigh, and as I saw he was still under the 
influence of a whole legion of the blues, and 



102 



SALMAGUNDI. 



just on the point of sinking into one of his 
whimsical and unreasonable fits of melancholy 
abstraction, I proposed a walk : — he con- 
sented, and slipped his left arm in mine, 
and waving in the other a gold-headed thorn 
cane, bequeathed him by his uncle John, we 
slowly rambled along the margin of the river. 

Langstaff. though possessing great vivacity 
of temper, is most wofully subject to these 
" thick coming fancies ;" and I do not know 
a man whose animal spirits do insult him 
with more jil tings, and coquetries, and slip- 
pery tricks. In these moods he is often 
visited by a whim-wham which he indulges 
in common with the Cocklofts. It is that of 
looking back with regret, conjuring up the 
phantoms of good old times, and decking 
them in imaginary finery, with the spoils of 
his fancy : like a good widow lady, regretting 
the loss of the " poor dear man," for whom, 
when living, she cared not a rush. I have 
seen him and Pindar, and old Cockloft, amuse 
themselves over a bottle with their youthful 
days, until by the time they had become what 
is termed merry, they were the most miserable 
beings in existence. In a similar humour was 
Launcelot at present, and I knew the only 
way was to let him moralize himself out of it. 

Our ramble was soon interrupted by the 
appearance of a personage of no little im- 
portance at Cockloft-hall : for, to let my 
readers into a family secret, friend Christo- 
pher is notoriously hen-pecked by an old 
negro, who ha5 whitened on the place, and is 
his master, almanack, and counsellor. My 
readers, if haply they have sojourned in the 
country, and become conversant in rural man- 
ners, must have observed, that there is scarce 
a little hamlet but has one of these old wea- 
ther-beaten wiseacres of negroes, who ranks 
among the great characters of the place. He 
is always resorted to as an oracle to resolve 
any question about the weather, fishing, shoot- 
ing, farming, and horse-doctoring ; and on 
such occasions will slouch his remnant of a 
hat on one side, fold his arms, roll his white 
eyes, and examine the sky, with a look as 
knowing as Peter Pindar's magpie when 
peeping into a marrow-bone. Such a sage 
curmudgeon is old Csesar, who acts as friend 
Cockloft's prime minister or grand vizier ; 
assumes, when abroad, his master's style and 



title ; to wit, squire Cockloft ; and is, in effect, 
absolute lord and ruler of the soil. 

As he passed us, he pulled off his hat with 
an air of something more than respect ; it 
partook, I thought, of affection. " There, now, 
is another memento of the kind I have been 
noticing," said Launcelot ; " Caesar was a 
bosom friend and chosen playmate of cousin 
Pindar and myself, when we were boys. 
Never were we so happy as when, stealing 
away on a holiday to the hall, we ranged 
about the fields with honest Caesar. He was 
particularly adroit in making our quail-traps 
and fishing-rods ; was always the ringleader 
in all the schemes of frolicksome mischief 
perpetrated by the urchins of the neighbour- 
hood ; considered himself on an equality with 
the best of us ; and many a hard battle have 
I had with him, about a division of the spoils 
of an orchard or the title to a bird's nest. 
Many a summer evening do I remember when, 
huddled together on the steps of the hall door, 
Caesar, with his stories of ghosts, goblins, 
and witches, would put us all in a panic, and 
people every lane, and church-yard, and soli- 
tary wood, with imaginary beings. In pro- 
cess of time, he became the constant attendant 
and Man Friday of cousin Pindar, whenever 
he went a sparking among the rosy country 
girls of the neighbouring farms ; and brought 
up the rear at every rustic dance, when he 
would mingle in the sable group that always 
thronged the door of merriment ; and it was 
enough to put to the rout a host of splenetic 
imps to see his mouth gradually dilate from 
ear to ear, with pride and exultation, at see- 
ing how neatly master Pindar footed it over 
the floor. Caesar was likewise the chosen 
confidant and special agent of Pindar in all 
his love affairs, until, as his evil stars would 
have it, on being entrusted with the delivery 
of a poetic billet-doux to one of his patron's 
sweethearts, he took an unlucky notion to 
send it to his own sable dulcinea ; who, not 
being able to read it, took it to her mistress ; 
— and so the whole affair was blown. Pin- 
dar was universally roasted, and Caesar dis- 
charged for ever from his confidence. 

" Poor Caesar ! — he has now grown old, 
like his young masters, but he still remem- 
bers old times ; and will, now and then, re- 
mind m© of them as he lights me to my room 



SALMAGUNDI. 



103 



and lingers a little while to bid me a good 
night :— believe me, my dear Evergreen, the 
henest, simple old creature has a warm cor- 
ner in my heart ; I don't see, for my part, 
why a body may not like a negro as well as 
a white man !" 

By the time these biographical anecdotes 
were ended we had reached the stable, into 
which we involuntarily strolled, and found 
Caesar busily employed in rubbing down the 
horses ; an office he would not entrust to any 
body else, having contracted an affection for 
every beast in the stable, from their being de- 
scendants of the old race of animals, his youth- 
ful contemporaries. Ca2sar was very particular 
in giving us their pedigrees, together with a 
panegyric on the swiftness, bottom, blood, 
and spirit of their sires. From these he di- 
gressed into a variety of anecdotes, in which 
Launcelot bore a conspicuous part, and on 
which the old negro dwelt with all the gar- 
rulity of age. Honest Langstaff stood lean- 
ing with his arm over the back of his favourite 
steed, old Killdeer ; and I could perceive he 
listened to Caesar's simple details with that 
fond attention with which a feeling mind will 
hang over narratives of boyish days. His 
eye sparkled with animation, a glow of youth- 
ful fire stole across his pale visage ; he nodded 
with smiling approbation at every sentence — 
chuckled at every exploit ; laughed heartily 
at the story of his once having smoked out a 
country singing-school with brimstone and 
assafcetida ; and slipping a piece of money 
into old Caesar's hand to buy himself a new 
tobacco-box, he seized me by the arm, and 
hurried out of the stable brimful of good na- 
ture. " 'Tis a pestilent old rogue for talk- 
ing, my dear fellow," cried he ; " but you 
must not find fault with him, the creature 
means well." I knew at the very moment 
he made this apology, honest Caesar could 
not have given him half the satisfaction had 
he talked like a Cicero or a Solomon. 

Launcelot returned to the house with me 
in the best possible humour : the whole fa- 
mily, who, in truth, love and honour him 
from their very souls, were delighted to sec 
the sun-beams once more play in his counte- 
nance. Every one seemed to vie who should 
talk the most, tell the longest stories, and be 
most agreeable ; and Will Wizard, who had 



accompanied me in my visit, declared, as he 
lighted his cigar, which had gone out forty 
times in the course of one of his oriental tales, 
that he had not passed so pleasant an evening 
since the birth-night ball of the beauteous 
Empress of Hayti. 

ON GREATNESS. 

BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAEF, ESQ. 

[The following essay was written by my friend Lang- 
staff in one of the paroxysms of his splenetic com- 
plaint; and, for aught I know, may have been 
effectual in restoring him to good humour. — A men- 
tal discharge of the kind has a remai-fcable tendency 
towards sweetening the temper, — and Launcelot is 
at this moment one of the best natured men in ex- 
istence. — A. Evergreen.] 

We have more than once, in the course of 
our work, been most jocosely familiar with 
great personages; and, in truth, treated them 
with as little ceremony, respect, and considera- 
tion, as if they had been our most particular 
friends. Now, we would not suffer the mor- 
tification of having our readers even suspect 
us of an intimacy of the kind ; assuring them 
we are extremely choice in our intimates, and 
uncommonly circumspect in avoiding con- 
nexions with all doubtful characters ; parti- 
cularly pimps, bailiffs, lottery -brokers, cheva- 
liers of industry, and great men. The world 
in general is pretty well aware of what is to 
be understood by the former classes of delin- 
quents ; but as the latter has never, I believe, 
been specifically defined, and as we are deter- 
mined to instruct our readers to the extent of 
our abilities, and their limited comprehen- 
sion, it may not be amiss here to let them 
know what we understand by a great man. 

First, therefore, let us, editors and kings 
are always plural, premise, that there are two 
kinds of greatness ; one conferred by heaven 
— the exalted nobility of the soul ; the other,' 
a spurious distinction, engendered by the 
mob, and lavished upon its favourites, The 
former of these distinctions we have already 
contemplated with reverence ; the latter, we 
will take this opportunity to strip naked be- 
fore our unenlightened readers ; so that if by 
chance any of them are held in ignominious 
thraldom by this base circulation of false coin, 
they may forthwith emancipate themselves 
from such inglorious delusion. 



104 



SALMAGUNDI. 



It is a fictitious value given to individuals 
by public caprice, as bankers give an impres- 
sion to a worthless slip of paper ; thereby 
gaining it a currency for infinitely more than 
its intrinsic value. Every nation has its pe- 
culiar coin, and peculiar great men ; neither 
of which will, for the most part, pass cur- 
rent out of the country where they are stamp- 
ed. Your true mob-created great man, is 
like a note of one of the little New-England 
banks, and his value depreciates in propor- 
tion to the distance from home. In England, 
a great man is he who has most ribands and 
gew-gaws on his coat, most horses to his car- 
riage, most slaves in his retinue, or most 
toad-eaters at his table ; in France, he who 
can most dexterously flourish his heels above 
his head — Duport is most incontestibly the 
greatest man in France ! — when the Emperor 
is absent. The greatest man in China, is he 
who can trace his ancestry up to the moon ; 
and in this country our great men may gene- 
rally hunt down their pedigree until it bur- 
rows in the dirt like a rabbit. To be con- 
cise ; our great men are those who are most 
expert at crawling on all-fours, and have the 
happiest facility in dragging and winding 
themselves along in the dirt like very reptiles. 
This may seem a paradox to many of my 
readers, who, with great good-nature be it 
hinted, are too stupid to look beyond the 
mere surface of our invaluable writings ; and 
often pass over the knowing allusion, and 
poignant meaning, that is slily couching be- 
neath. It is for the benefit of such helpless 
ignorants, who have no other creed but the 
opinion of the mob, that I shall trace, as far 
as it is possible to follow him in his ascent 
from insignificance, — the rise, progress, and 
completion of a little great man. 

In a logocracy to use the sage Mustapha's 
phrase, it is not absolutely necessary to the 
formation of a great man that he should be 
cither wise or valiant ; upright, or honour- 
able. On the contrary, daily experience 
shows, that these qualities rather impede his 
preferment ; inasmuch as they are prone to 
render him too inflexibly erect, and are di- 
rectly at variance with that willowy supple- 
ness which enables a man to wind, and twist, 
through all the nooks and turns, and dark 
"winding passages, that lead to greatness.—. 



The grand requisite for climbing the rugged 
bill of popularity, — the summit of which is 
the seat of power, — is to be useful. And 
here once more, for the sake of our readers, 
who are of course not so wise as ourselves, I 
must explain what we understand by useful- 
ness. The horse, in his native state, is wild, 
swift, impetuous, full of majesty, and of a 
most generous spirit. It is then the animal 
is noble, exalted, and useless. But entrap 
him, manacle him, cudgel him, break down 
his lofty spirit, put the curb into his mouth, 
the load upon his back, and reduce him into 
servile obedience to the bridle and the lash, 
and it is then he becomes useful. Your 
jackass is one of the most useful animals in 
existence. If my readers do not now under- 
stand what I mean by usefulness, I give them 
all up for most absolute nincoms. 

To rise in this country a man must first 
descend. The aspiring politician may be 
compared to that indefatigable insect, called 
the tumbler, pronounced by a distinguished 
personage to be the only industrious animal 
in Virginia ; which buries itself in filth, and 
works ignobly in the dirt, until it forms a 
little ball, which it rolls laboriously along, 
like Diogenes in his tub ; sometimes head, 
sometimes tail foremost, pilfering from every 
rat and mud hole, and increasing its ball of 
greatness by the contributions of the kennel. 
Just so the candidate for greatness ; — he 
plunges into that mass of obscenity, the mob ; 
labours in dirt and oblivion, and makes unto 
himself the rudiments of a popular name 
from the admiration and praises of rogues, 
ignoramuses and blackguards. His name 
once started, onward he goes struggling and 
puffing, and pushing it before him ; collect- 
ing new tributes from the dregs and offals of 
the land as he proceeds, until having gathered 
together a mighty mass of popularity, he 
mounts it in triumph ; is hoisted into office, 
and becomes a great man, and a ruler in the 
land — All this will be clearly illustrated by a 
sketch of a worthy of the kind, who sprung 
up under my eye, and was hatched from pol- 
lution by the broad rays of popularity, 
which, like the sun, can " breed maggots 
in a dead dog.'* 

Timothy Dabble was a young man of very 
promising talents j for he wrote a fair hand, 



SALMAGUNDI. 



105 



and had thrice won the silver medal at a 
country academy ; he was also an orator, for 
he talked with emphatic volubility, and 
could argue a full hour, without taking either 
side, or advancing a single opinion; he had still 
farther requisites for eloquence ; for he made 
very handsome gestures, had dimples in his 
cheeks when he smiled, and enunciated most 
harmoniously through his nose. In short, 
nature had certainly marked him out for a 
great man ; for though he was not tall, yet 
he added at least half an inch to his stature 
by elevating his head, and assumed an ama- 
zing expression of dignity, by turning up his 
nose and curling his nostrils in a style of con- 
scious superiority. Convinced by these un- 
equivocal appearances, Dabble's friends, in 
full caucus, one and all, declared that he 
was undoubtedly born to be a great man, and 
it would be his own fault if he were not one. 
Dabble was tickled with an opinion which 
coincided so happily with his own, — for va- 
nity, in a confidential whisper, had given 
him the like intimation ; and he reverenced 
the judgment of his friends because they 
thought so highly of himself ; — accordingly 
he set out with a determination to become a 
great man, and to start in the scrub-race for 
honour and renown. How to attain the de- 
sired prizes was however the question. He 
knew by a kind of instinctive feeling, which 
seems peculiar to grovelling minds, that 
honour, and its better part — profit, would 
never seek him out ; that they would never 
knock at his door and crave admittance ; but 
must be courted, and toiled after, and earned. 
He therefore strutted forth into the highways, 
the market-places, and the assemblies of the 
people; ranted like a true cockerel orator 
about virtue, and patriotism, and liberty, 
and equality, and himself. Full many a 
political wind-mill did he battle with ; and 
full many a time did he talk himself out of 
breath and his hearers out of their patience. 
But Dabble found to his vast astonishment, 
that there was not a notorious political pimp 
at a ward meeting but could out-talk him ;—. 
and what was still more mortifying, there was 
not a notorious political pimp but was more 
noticed and caressed than himself. The rea- 
son was simple enough ; while he harangued 
about principles, the others ranted about 



men ; where he reprobated a political error, 
they blasted a political character : — they were, 
consequently, the most useful ; for the great 
object of our political disputes is not who 
shall have the honour of emancipating the 
community from the leading strings of delu- 
sion, but who shall have the profit of holding 
the strings and leading the community by the 
nose. 

Dabble was likewise very loud in his pro- 
fessions of integrity, incorruptibility, and 
disinterestedness ; words, which, from being 
filtered and refined through newspapers and 
election hand-bills, have lost their original 
signification ; and in the political dictionary 
are synonymous with empty pockets, itching 
palms, and interested ambition. He, in ad- 
dition to all this, declared that he would sup- 
port none but honest men ; but unluckily as 
but few of these offered themselves to be sup- 
ported, Dabble's services were seldom re- 
quired. He pledged himself never to engage 
in party schemes, or party politics, but to 
stand up solely for the broad interests of his 
country ; so he stood alone ; and what is the 
same thing, he stood still ; for, in this coun- 
try, he who does not side with cither party, 
is like a body in a vacuum between two 
planets, and must for ever remain motion- 
less. 

Dabble was immeasurably surprised that a 
man so honest, so disinterested, and so sa- 
gacious withal, and one too who had the good 
of his country so much at heart, should thus 
remain unnoticed and unapplauded. A little 
worldly advice, whispered in his ear by a 
shrewd old politician, at once explained the 
whole mystery. " He who would become 
great," said he, " must serve an apprentice- 
ship to greatness ; and rise by regular grada- 
tion, like the master of a vessel, who com- 
mences by being scrub and cabin-boy. He 
must fag in the train of great men, echo all 
their sentiments, become their toad-eater and 
parasite, — laugh at all their jokes ; and above 
all, endeavour to make them laugh : — if you 
only now and then make a man laugh your 
fortune is made. Look but about you, 
youngster, and you will not see a single little 
great man of the day, but has his miserable 
herd of retainers, who yelp at his heels, 
come at his whistle, worry whoever he points 



106 



SALMAGUNDI. 



his finger at, and think themselves fully re- 
warded by sometimes snapping up a crumb 
that falls from the great man's table. Talk 
of patriotism and virtue, and incorruptibility ! 
— tut, man ! they are the very qualities that 
scare munificence, and keep patronage at a 
distance. You might as well attempt to 
entice crows with red rags and gunpowder. — 
Lay all these scarecrow virtues aside, and let 
this be your maxim, that a candidate for poli- 
tical eminence is like a dried herring ; — 
he never becomes luminous until he is cor- 
rupt." 

Dabble caught with hungry avidity these 
congenial doctrines, and turned into his pre- 
destined channel of action with the force and 
rapidity of a stream which has for a while 
been restrained from its natural course. He 
became what nature had fitted him to be ; — 
his tone softened down from arrogant self- 
sufficiency to the whine of fawning solicita- 
tion. He mingled in the caucuses of the 
sovereign people ; adapted his dress to a 
similitude of dirty raggedness ; argued most 
logically with those who were of his own 
opinion ; — and slandered, with all the malice 
of impotence, exalted characters whose orbit 
he despaired ever to approach : — just as that 
scoundrel midnight thief, the owl, hoots at 
the blessed light of the sun, whose glorious 
lustre he dares never to contemplate. He 
likewise applied himself to discharging faith- 
fully the honourable duties of a paitizan ; he 
poached about for private slanders, and 
ribald anecdotes ; he folded hand-bills — he 
even wrote one or two himself, which he 
carried about in his pocket and read to every 
body ; he became a secretary at ward-meet- 
ings, set his hand to divers resolutions of 
patriotic import, and even once went so far as 
to make a speech, in which he proved that 
patriotism was a virtue ; — the reigning bashaw 
a great man ; — that this was a free country, 
and he himself an arrant and incontestable 
buzzard ! 

Dabble was now very frequent and devout 
in his visits to those temples of politics, 
popularity and smoke, the ward porter- 
houses ; those true dens of equality, where 
all ranks, ages, and talents, are brought 
down to the dead level of rude familiarity — 
'Twas here his talents expanded, and his 



genius swelled up into its proper size ; like 
the loatnsome toad, which shrinking from 
balmy airs, and jocund sunshine, finds his 
congenial home in caves and dungeons, and 
there nourishes venom, and bloats his defor- 
mity. 'Twas here he revelled with the 
swinish multitude in their debauches on 
patriotism and porter ; and it became an even 
chance whether Dabble would turn out a 
great man or a great drunkard. But Dabble 
in all this kept steadily in his eye the only 

deity he ever worshipped — his interest. 

Having by this familiarity ingratiated him- 
self with the mob, he became wonderfully 
potent and industrious at elections ; knew all 
the dens and cellars of profligacy and intem- 
perance ; brought more negroes to the polls, 
and knew to a greater certainty where votes 
could be bought for beer than any of his con- 
temporaries. His exertions in the cause, his 
persevering industry, his degrading com- 
pliance, his unresisting humility, his stedfast 
dependence, at length caught the attention of 
one of the leaders of the party; who was 
pleased to observe that Dabble was a very 

useful fellow who would go all lengths 

From that moment his fortune was made ; — 
he was hand and glove with orators and 
slang-whangers ; basked in the sun-shine of 
great men's smiles, and had the honour, 
sundry times, of shaking hands with dignita- 
ries, and drinking out of the same pot with 
them at a porter-house ! ! 

I will not fatigue myself with tracing this 
caterpillar in his slimy progress from worm 
to butterfly ; suffice it that Dabble bowed 
and bowed, and fawned, and sneaked, and 
smirked, and libelled, until one would have 
thought perseverance itself would have set- 
tled down into despair. There was no know- 
ing how long he might have lingered at a 
distance from his hopes, had he not luckily 
got tarred and feathered for some of his elec- 
tioneering manoeuvres — this was the making 
of him ! Let not my readers stare — tarring 
and feathering here is equal to pillory and 
cropped ears in England ; and either of these 
kinds of martyrdom will ensure a patriot the 
sympathy and support of his faction. His 
partizans, for even he had his partizans, took 
his case into consideration — he had been 
kicked and cuffed, and disgraced, and dis- 



SALMAGUNDT. 



107 



honoured in the cause — he had licked the 
dust at the feet of the raoh — he was a faithful 
drudge, slow to anger, of invincible patience, 
of incessant assiduity — a thorough -going tool, 
who could be curbed, and spurred, and di- 
rected at pleasure ; in short, he had all the 
important qualifications for a little great man, 
and he was accordingly ushered into office, 
amid the acclamations of the party. The 
leading men complimented his usefulness, 
the multitude his republican simplicity, and 
the slang-whangers vouched for his patriot- 
ism. Since his elevation he has discovered 
indubitable signs of having been destined 
for a great man. His nose has acquired an 
additional elevation of several degrees, so 
that now he appears to have bidden adieu to 
this world, and to have set his thoughts alto- 
gether on things above ; and he has swelled 
and inflated himself to such a degree, that 
his friends are under apprehensions that he 
will one day or other explode and blow up 
like a torpedo. 



No. 16. 

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 1G, 1807- 

STYLE, AT BALLSTON. 

BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ.. 

Notwithstanding Evergreen has never 
been abroad, nor had his understanding 
enlightened, or his views enlarged by that 
marvellous sharpener of the wits, a salt-water 
voyage ; yet he is tolerably shrewd and 
correct, in the limited sphere of his observa- 
tions ; and now and then astounds me with a 
right pithy remark, which would do no dis- 
credit even to a man who had made the grand 
tour. 

In several late conversations at Cockloft- 
Hall, he has amused us exceedingly, by 
detailing sundry particulars concerning that 
notorious slaughter-house of time, Ballston 
Springs, where he spent a considerable part 
of the last summer. The following is a 
summary of his observations. 

Pleasure has passed through a variety of 
significations at Ballston. It originally 
meant nothing more than a relief from pain 
and sickness ; and the patient who had 
journeyed many a weary mile to the Springs, 



with a heavy heart and emaciated form, 
called it pleasure when he threw by his 
crutches, and danced away from them with 
renovated spirits, and limbs jocund with 
vigour. In process of time pleasure under- 
went a refinement, and appeared in the like- 
ness of a sober unceremonious country dance, 
to the flute of an amateur, or the three- 
stringed fiddle of an itinerant country musi- 
cian. Still every thing bespoke that happy 
holiday which the spirits ever enjoy, when 
emancipated from the shackles of formality, 
ceremony, and modern politeness: things 
went on cheeringly, and Ballston was pro- 
nounced a charming hum-drum careless place 
of resort, where every one was at his ease, 
and might follow unmolested the bent of his 
humour-— provided his wife was not there ; 
when, lo ! all on a sudden Style made its 
baneful appearance in the semblance of a 
gig and tandem, a pair of leather breeches, a 
liveried footman, and a cockney ! Since that 
fatal era, pleasure has taken an entire new 
signification, and at present means nothing 

but STYLE. 

The worthy, fashionable, dashing good- 
for-nothing people of every state, who had 
rather suffer the martyrdom of a crowd, than 
endure the monotony of their own homes, and 
the stupid company of their own thoughts, 
flock to the Springs ; not to enjoy the plea- 
sures of society, or benefit by the qualities of 
the waters, but to exhibit their equipages 
and wardrobes, and to excite the admiration, 
or what is much more satisfactory, the envy 
of their fashionable competitors. This of 
course awakens a spirit of noble emulation 
between the eastern, middle, and southern 
states ; and every lady hereupon finding her- 
self charged in a manner with the whole 
weight of her country's dignity and style, 
dresses and dashes, and sparkles, without 
mercy, at her competitors from other parts of 
the union. This kind of rivalship naturally 
requires a vast deal of preparation and prodi- 
gious quantities of supplies. A sober citizen's 
wife will break half a dozen milliner's shops, 
and sometimes starve her family a whole sea- 
son, to enable herself to make the Spring's 
campaign in style. She repairs to the seat of 
war with a mighty force of trunks and band- 
boxes, like so many ammunition chests, 



103 



SALMAGUNDI. 



filled with caps, hats, gowns, ribands, shawls, 
and all the various artillery of fashionable 
warfare. The lady of a southern planter will 
lay out the whole annual produce of a rice 
plantation in silver and gold muslins, lace 
veils, and new liveries, carry a hogshead of 
tobacco on her head, and trail a bale of Sea 
Island cotton at her heels ; while a lady of 
Boston or Salem will wrap herself up in the 
nett proceeds of a cargo of whale oil, and tie 
on her hat with a quintal of cod fish. 

The planters' ladies, however, have gene- 
rally the advantage in this contest ; for, as it 
is an incontestable fact, that whoever comes 
from the East or West Indies, or Georgia, or 
the Caroiinas, or in fact any warm climate, is 
immensely rich, it cannot be expected that a 
simple cit of the north can cope with them in 
style. The planter, therefore, who drives 
four horses abroad and a thousand negroes 
at home, and who flourishes up to the Springs 
followed by half-a-score of black-a-moors, in 
gorgeous liveries, is unquestionably superior 
to the northern merchant, who plods on in a 
carriage and pair ; which being nothing more 
than is quite necessary, has no claim whatever 
to style. He, however, has his consolation in 
feeling superior to the honest cit, who dashes 
about in a simple gig — he in return sneers at 
the country squire, who jogs along with his 
scrubby long-eared pony and saddle-bags ; 
and the squire, by way of taking satisfaction, 
would make no scruple to run over the unob- 
trusive pedestrian, were it not that the last 
being the most independent of the whole 
might chance to break his head by way of 
retort. 

The great misfortune is, that this style is 
supported at such an expense as sometimes to 
encroach on the rights and privileges of the 
pocket, and occasion very awkward embar- 
rassments to the tyro of fashion. Among a 
number of instances, Evergreen mentions the 
fate of a dashing blade from the south, who 
made his entre with a tandem and two out- 
riders, by the aid of which he attracted the 
attention of all the ladies, and caused a 
coolness between several young couple who, 
it was thought before his arrival, had a 
considerable kindness for each other. In 
the course of a fortnight his tandem disap- 
peared ! — the class of good folk, who seem to 



have nothing to do in this world but piy into 
other people's affairs, began to stare ! In a 
little time longer an outrider was missing ! — 
this increased the alarm, and it was conse- 
quently whispered that he had eaten the 
horses and drank the negro. — N.B. Southern 
gentlemen are very apt to do this on an emer- 
gency. Serious apprehensions were enter- 
tained about the fate of the remaining ser- 
vant, which were soon verified by his actually 
vanishing ; and in " one little month" the 
dashing Carolinian modestly took his depar- 
ture in the stage coach ! — universally re- 
gretted by the friends who had generously 
released him from his cumbrous load of 
style. 

Evergreen, in the course of his detail, gave 
very melancholy accounts of an alarming 
famine which raged with great violence at 
the Springs. Whether this was owing to 
the incredible appetites of the company, or 
the scarcity which prevailed at the inns, he 
did not seem inclined te say ; but he declares, 
that he was for several days in imminent 
danger of starvation, owing to his being 
a little too dilatory in his attendance at the 
dinner-table. He relates a number of " moving 
accidents," which befel many of the polite 
company in their zeal to get a good seat at 
dinner; on which occasion a kind of scrub- 
race always took place, wherein a vast deal of 
jockeying and unfair play was shown, and a 
variety of squabbles and unseemly alterca- 
tions occurred. But when arrived at the 
scene of action, it was truly an awful sight to 
behold the confusion, and to hear the tumul- 
tuous uproar of voices crying out, some for 
one thing, and some for another, to the tune- 
ful accompaniment of knives and forks, 
rattling with all the energy of hungry im- 
patience. The feast of the Centaurs and the 
Lapithae was nothing when compared with a 
dinner at the Great House. At one time, an 
old gentleman, whose natural irascibility was 
a little sharpened by the gout, had scalded 
his throat, by gobbling down a bowl of hot 
soup in a vast hurry, in order to secure the 
first fruits of a roasted partridge before it was 
snapped up by some hungry rival ; when, 
just as he was whetting his knife and fork, 
preparatory for a descent on the promised 
land, he had the mortification to see it trans- 



SALMAGUNDI. 



109 



ferred, bodily, to the plate of a squeamish 
little damsel, who was taking the waters for 
debility and loss of appetite. This was too 
much for the patience of old Crusty; he 
lodged his fork into the partridge, whipt 
it into his dish, and cutting off a wing of it — 
" There, Miss, there's more than you can 
eat. Oons ! what should such a little chalky, 
faced puppet as you do with a whole par- 
tridge !" At another time a mighty sweet 
disposed old dowager, who loomed most mag- 
nificently at the table, had a sauce-boat 
launched upon the capacious lap of a silver- 
sprigged muslin gown, by the manoeuvring 
of a little politic Frenchman, who was, dex- 
terously attempting to make a lodgment 
tinder the covered way of a chicken-pie ; — 
human nature could not bear it ! — the lady 
bounced round, and, with one box on the ear, 
drove the luckless wight to utter annihila- 
tion. 

But these little cross accidents are amply 
compensated by the great variety of amuse- 
ments which abound at this charming resort 
of beauty and fashion. In the morning the 
company, each like a jolly bacchanalian, with 
glass in hand, sally forth to the Springs ; 
where the gentlemen, who wish to make 
themselves agreeable, have an opportunity of 
dipping themselves into the good opinion of 
the ladies ; and it is truly delectable to see 
with what grace and adroitness they perform 
this ingratiating feat. Anthony says that it 
is peculiarly amazing to behold the quantity 
of water the ladies drink on this occasion, for 
the purpose of getting an appetite for break- 
fast. He assures me he has been present 
when a young lady, of unparalleled delicacy, 
tossed off, in the space of a minute or two, 
one-and-twenty tumblers and a wine-glass 
full. On my asking Anthony whether the 
solicitude of the bye-standers was not greatly 
awakened as to what might be the effects of 
this debauch, he replied, that the ladies at 
Ballston had become such great sticklers for 
the doctrine of evaporation, that no gentleman 
ever ventured to remonstrate against this ex- 
cessive drinking for fear of bringing his phi- 
losophy into contempt. The most notorious 
water-drinkers, in particular, were continu- 
ally holding forth on the surprising aptitude 
with which the Ballston waters evaporated ; 



and several gentlemen, who had the hardihood 
to question this female philosophy, were held 
in high displeasure. 

After breakfast, every one chooses his 
amusement ; some take a ride into the pine 
woods, and enjoy the varied and romantic 
scenery of burnt trees, post and rail fences, 
pine flats, potatoe patches, and log huts ; 
others scramble up the surrounding sand- 
hills, that look like the abodes of a gigantic 
race of ants ; take a peep at other sand- 
hills beyond them; and then — come down 
again : others who are romantic, and sundry 
young ladies insist upon being so when- 
ever they visit the Springs, or go any where 
into the country, stroll along tne borders 
of a little swampy brook, that drags itself 
along like an Alexandrine, and that so lazily, 
as not to make a single murmur ; watching 
the little tadpoles as they frolic, right flip- 
pantly, in the muddy stream, and listening 
to the inspiring melody of the harmonious 
frogs that croak upon its borders. Some play 
at billiards, some play the fiddle, and some- 
play the fool ; the latter being the most pre- 
valent amusement at Ballston. 

These, together with abundance of dancing, 
and a prodigious deal of sleeping of after- 
noons, make up the variety of pleasures at 
the Springs ; — a delicious life of alternate 
lassitude and fatigue ; of laborious dissipa- 
tion, and listless idleness ; of sleepless nights, 
and days spent in that dozing insensibility 
which ever succeeds them. Now and then, 
indeed, the influenza, the fever-and-ague, or 
some such pale-faced intruder, may happen 
to throw a momentary damp on the general 
felicity ; but on the whole, Evergreen de- 
clares that Ballston wants only six things ; 
to wit, good air, good wine, good living, good 
beds, good company, and good humour, to be 
the most enchanting place in the world — ex- 
cepting Botany Bay, Musquito Cove, Dismal 
Swamp, and the Black Hole at Calcutta.* 

* The British reader will have felt himself quite at 
home in the perusal of this essay, as its satire is just 
as applicable to the society of our fashionable water- 
ing places as to the notables of Ballston.— Edit. 



no 



SALMAGUNDI. 



LETTER 

FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN 

To Asem Hacchem, principal Slave-driver 
to his Highness the Bashaw of Tripoli. 

[The following letter from the sage Mustapha has cost 
us more trouble to decipher and render into tole- 
rable English, than any hitherto published. It was 
full of blots and erasures, particularly the latter 
part, which we have no doubt was penned in a mo- 
ment of great wrath and indignation. Mustapha 
has often a rambling mode of writing, and his 
thoughts take such unaccountable turns, that it is 
difficult to tell one moment where he will lead you 
the next. This is particularly obvious in the com- 
mencement of his letters, which seldom bear much 
analogy to the subsequent parts ; he sets oft" with a 
flourish, like a dramatic hero, assumes an air of 
great pomposity, and struts up to his subject 
mounted most loftily on stilts. — L. Langstaff.'] 

Among the variety of principles by which 
mankind are actuated, there is one, my dear 
Asem, which I scarcely know whether to 
consider as springing from grandeur and no- 
bility of mind, or from a refined species of 
vanity and egotism. It is that singular, al- 
though almost universal, desire of living in 
the memory of posterity ; of occupying a 
share of the world's attention, when we shall 
long since have ceased to be susceptible either 
of its praise or censure. Most of the passions 
of the mind are bounded by the grave ; 
sometimes, indeed, an anxious hope or trem- 
bling fear will venture beyond the clouds and 
darkness that rest upon our mortal horizon, 
and expatiate in boundless futurity ; but it is 
only this active love of fame which steadily 
contemplates its fruition, in the applause or 
gratitude of future ages. Indignant at the 
narrow limits which circumscribe existence, 
ambition is for ever struggling to soar beyond 
them ; to triumph over space and time, and 
to bear a name, at least, above the inevitable 
oblivion in which every thing else that con- 
cerns us must be involved. It is this, my 
friend, which prompts the patriot to his most 
heroic achievements ; which inspires the sub- 
limest strains of the poet, and breathes ethe- 
real fire into the productions of the painter 
and the statuary. 

For this the monarch rears the lofty co- 
lumn ; the laurelled conqueror claims the 
triumphal arch ; while the obscure indivi- 
dual, who moved in a humbler sphere, asks 



but a plain and simple stone to mark his 
grave, and bear to the next generation this 
important truth, that he was born, died — and 
was buried. It was this passion which once 
erected the vast Numidian piles, whose ruins 
we have so often regarded with wonder, as the 
shades of evening — fit emblems of oblivion— 
gradually stole over and enveloped them in 
darkness. It was this which gave being to 
those sublime monuments of Saracen magni- 
ficence, which nod in mouldering desolation, 
as the blast sweeps over our deserted plains. 
How futile are all our efforts to evade the 
obliterating hand of time ! As I traversed the 
dreary wastes of Egypt, on my journey to 
Grand Cairo, I stopped my camel for awhile, 
and contemplated, in awful admiration, the 
stupendous pyramids. An appalling silence 
prevailed around — such as reigns in the wil- 
derness when the tempest is hushed, and the 
beasts of prey have retired to their dens. The 
myriads that had once been employed in rear- 
ing these lofty mementos of human vanity, 
whose busy hum once enlivened the solitude 
of the desert — had all been swept from the 
earth by the irresistible arm of death — all 
were mingled with their native dust — all were 
forgotten ! Even the mighty names which 
these sepulchres were designed to perpetuate; 
had long since faded from remembrance : his^ 
tory and tradition afforded but vague conjec- 
tures, and the pyramids imparted a humili- 
ating lesson to the candidate for immortality. 
Alas ! alas ! said I to myself, how mutable 
are the foundations on which our proudest 
hopes of future fame are reposed ! He who 
imagines he has secured to himself the meed 
of deathless renown, indulges in deluding 
visions, which only bespeak the vanity of the 
dreamer. The storied obelisk — the triumphal 
arch — the swelling dome — shall crumble into 
dust, and the names they would preserve 
from oblivion shall often pass away before 
their own duration is accomplished. 

Yet this passion for fame, however ridicu- 
lous in the eye of the philosopher, deserves 
respect and consideration, from haviug been 
the source of so many illustrious actions ; and' 
hence it has been the practice in all enlightened 
governments to perpetuate, by monuments, 
the memory of great men, as a testimony. of 
respect for the illustrious dead, and to awaken 



SALMAGUNDI. 



Ill 



in the bosoms of posterity an emulation to 
merit the same honourable distinction. The 
people of the American logocracy, who pride 
themselves upon improving on every precept 
or example of ancient or modern governments, 
have discovered a new mode of exciting this 
love of glory — a mode by which they do ho- 
nour to their great men, even in their life time. 

Thou must have observed by this time, 
that they manage every thing in a manner 
peculiar to themselves ; and doubtless in the 
best possible manner, seeing they have deno- 
minated themselves " the most enlightened 
people under the sun." Thou wilt therefore, 
perhaps, be curious to know how they con- 
trive to honour the name of a living patriot, 
and what unheaxd-of monument they erect in 
memory of his achievements. By the fiery 
beard of the mighty Barbarossa, but I can 
scarcely preserve the sobriety of a true dis- 
ciple of Mahomet while I tell thee ! Wilt 
thou not smile, oh, mussulman of invincible 
gravity, to learn that they honour their great 
men by eating, and that the only trophy 
erected to their exploits is a public dinner ! 
But trust me, Asem, even in this measure, 
whimsical as it may seem, the philosophic 
and considerate spirit of this people is admi- 
rably displayed. Wisely concluding, that 
when the hero is dead he becomes insensible 
to the voice of fame, the song of adulation, or 
the splendid trophy, they have determined 
that he shall enjoy his quantum of celebrity 
while living, and revel in the full enjoyment 
of a nine days' immortality. The barbarous 
nations of antiquity immolated human vic- 
tims to the memory of their lamented dead ; 
but the enlightened Americans offer up whole 
hecatombs of geese and calves, and oceans of 
wine, in honour of the illustrious living ; and 
the patriot has the felicity of hearing from 
every quarter, the vast exploits in gluttony 
and revelling that have been celebrated to the 
glory of his name. 

No sooner does a citizen signalize himself 
in a conspicuous manner in the service of his 
country, than all the gormandizers assemble 
and discharge the national debt of gratitude 
— by giving him a dinner : not that he really 
receives all the luxuries provided on this oc- 
casion — no, my friend, it is ten chances to one 
that the great man does not taste a morsel 



from the table, and is, perhaps, five hundred 
miles distant ; and, to let thee into a melan- 
choly fact, a patriot, under this economic go- 
vernment, may be often in want of a dinner, 
while dozens are devouring his praise. Nei- 
ther are these repasts spread out for the 
hungry and necessitous, who might otherwise 
be filled with food and gladness, and inspired 
to shout forth the illustrious name, which 
had been the means of their enjoyment — far 
from this, Asem, it is the rich only who in- 
dulge in the banquet : those who pay for the 
dainties are alone privileged to enjoy them ; 
so that, while opening their purses in honour 
of the patriot, they, at the same time, fulfil a 
great maxim, which in this country compre- 
hends all the rules of prudence, and all the 
duties a man owes to himself — namely, get- 
ting the worth of their money. 

In process of time this mode of testifying 
public applause has been found so marvel- 
lously agreeable, that they extend it to events 
as well as characters, and eat in triumph at 
the news of a treaty — at the anniversary of 
any grand national era, or at the gaining of 
that splendid victory of the tongue — an elec- 
tion. Nay, so far do they carry it, that cer- 
tain days are set apart, when the guzzlers, 
the gormandizers, and the wine-bibbers meet 
together to celebrate a grand indigestion, in 
memory of some great event ; and every man 
in the zeal of patriotism gets devoutly drunk 
— "as the act directs." Then, my friend, 
mayest thou behold the sublime spectacle of 
love of country, elevating itself from a senti- 
ment into an appetite, whetted to the quick 
with the cheering prospect of tables loaded 
with the fat things of the land. On this oc- 
casion every man is anxious to fall to work, 
cram himself in honour of the day, and risk 
a surfeit in the glorious cause. Some, I have 
been told, actually fast for four-and-twenty 
hours preceding, that they may be enabled to 
do greater honour to the feast ; and certainly, 
if eating and drinking are patriotic rites, he 
who eats and drinks most, and proves him- 
self the greatest glutton, is, undoubtedly, the 
most distinguished patriot. Such, at any 
rate, seems to be the opinion here ; and they 
act up to it so rigidly, that by the time it is 
dark, every kennel in the neighbourhood 
teems with illustrious members of the sove- 



112 



SALMAGUNDI. 



reign people, wallowing in their congenial 
element of mud and mire. 

These patriotic feasts, or rather national 
monuments, are patronized and promoted by 
certain inferior cadis, called aldermen, who 
are commonly complimented with their direc- 
tion. These dignitaries, as far as I can 
learn, are generally appointed on account of 
their great talents for eating, a qualification 
peculiarly necessary in the discharge of their 
official duties. They hold frequent meetings 
at taverns and hotels, where they enter into 
solemn consultations for the benefit of lob- 
sters and turtles ; establish wholesome regu- 
lations for the safety and preservation of fish 
and wild-fowl ; appoint the seasons most pro- 
per for eating oysters ; inquire into the eco- 
nomy of taverns, the characters of publicans, 
and the abilities of their cooks ; and discuss, 
most learnedly, the merits of a bowl of soup, 
a chicken-pie, or a haunch of venison ; in a 
word, the alderman has absolute control in 
all matters of eating, and superintends the 
whole police — of the belly. Having, in the 
prosecution of their important office, sig- 
nalized themselves at so many public festi- 
vals ; having gorged so often on patriotism 
and pudding, and entombed so many great 
names in their extensive maws, thou wilt 
easily conceive that they wax portly apace, 
and they fatten on the fame of mighty men, 
and that their rotundity, like the rivers, the 
lakes, and the mountains of their country, 
must be on a great scale ! Even so, my 
friend ; and when I sometimes see a portly 
alderman, puffing along, and swelling as if 
he had the world under his waistcoat, I can- 
not help looking upon him as a walking 
monument, and am often ready to exclaim, 
" Tell me, thou majestic mortal, thou breath- 
ing catacomb ! to what illustrious character, 
what mighty event, does that capacious car- 
cass of thine bear testimony ?" 

But though the enlightened citizens of this 
logocracy eat in honour of their friends, yet 
they drink destruction to their enemies.—. 
Yea, Asem, woe unto those who are doomed 
to undergo the public vengeance at a public 
dinner. No sooner are the viands removed, 
than they prepare for merciless and extermi- 
nating hostilities. They drink the intoxi- 
cating juice of the grape, out of little glass 



cups, and over each draught pronounce a 
short sentence or prayer ; not such a prayer 
as thy virtuous heart would dictate, thy pioua 
lips give utterance to, my good Asem ; not a 
tribute of thanks to all-bountiful Allah, nor 
a humble supplication for his blessing on the 
draught ! — no, my friend, it is merely a toast, 
that is to say, a fulsome tribute of flattery to 
their demagogues ; a laboured sally of af- 
fected sentiment or national egotism; or, 
what is more despicable, a malediction on 
their enemies, an empty threat of vengeance, 
or a petition for their destruction ; for toasts, 
thou must know, are another kind of missile 
weapon in a logocracy, and are levelled from 
afar, like the annoying arrows of the Tartars. 

Oh, Asem ! couldst thou but witness one 
of these patriotic, these monumental dinners ; 
how furiously the flame of patriotism blazes 
forth, how suddenly they vanquish armies, 
subjugate whole countries, and exterminate 
nations in a bumper, thou wouldst more than 
ever admire the force of that omnipotent 
weapon the tongue. At these moments every 
coward becomes a hero, every raggamuffin an 
invincible warrior ; and the most zealous 
votaries of peace and quiet, forget, for awhile, 
their cherished maxims, and join in the fu- 
rious attack. Toast succeeds toast ; kings, 
emperors, bashaws, are like chaff before the 
tempest; the inspired patriot vanquishes 
fleets with a single gun-boat, and swallows 
down navies at a draught, until, overpowered 
with victory and wine, he sinks upon the field 
of battle, dead drunk in his country's cause. 
Sword of the puissant Khalid ! what a dis- 
play of valour is here ; the sons of Afric are 
hardy, brave, and enterprising, but they can 
achieve nothing like this. 

Happy would it be if this mania for toast- 
ing extended no farther than to the expres- 
sion of national resentment. Though we 
might smile at the impotent vaporing and 
windy hyperbole, by which it is distinguished, 
yet we could excuse it, as the unguarded 
overflowings of a heart, glowing with national 
injuries, and indignant at the insults offered 
to its country. But, alas, my friend, private 
resentment, individual hatred, and the illibe- 
ral spirit of party, are let loose on these festive 
occasions. Even the names of individuals, 
of unoffending fellow-citizens, are sometimes 



SALMAGUNDI. 



113 



dragged forth to undergo the slanders and 
execrations of a distempered herd of revel- 
lers.* Head of Mahomet ! how vindictive, 
how insatiably vindictive must be that spirit, 
which can drug the mantling bowl with gall 
and bitterness, and indulge an angry passion 
in the moment of rejoicing ! " Wine," says 
their poet, "is like sunshine to the heart, 
which, under its generous influence, expands 
with good will, and becomes the very temple 
of philanthropy. Strange, that in a temple 
consecrated to such a divinity, there should 
remain a secret corner, polluted by the bark- 
ings of malice and revenge ; strange that in 
the full flow of social enjoyment, these vota- 
ries of pleasure can turn aside to call down 
curses on the head of a fellow-creature. — 
Despicable souls ! ye are unworthy of being 
citizens of this " most enlightened country 
under the sun :" rather herd with the mur- 
derous savages who prowl the mountains of 
Tibesti ; who stain their midnight orgies 
with the blood of the innocent wanderer, and 
drink their infernal potations from the sculls 
of the victims they have massacred. 

And yet, trust me, Asem, this spirit of vin- 
dictive cowardice is not owing to any inherent 
depravity of soul, for, on other occasions, I 
have had ample proof that this nation is mild 
and merciful, brave and magnanimous ; nei- 
ther is it owing to any defect in their political 
or "religious precepts. The principles incul- 
cated by their rulers on all occasions breathe 
a spirit of universal philanthropy ; and as to 
their religion, much as I am devoted to the 
Koran of our divine prophet, still I cannot 
but acknowledge with admiration the mild 
forbearance, the amiable benevolence, the 
sublime morality bequeathed them by the 
founder of their faith. Thou rememberest 

Note by William Wizard, Esq. 
* It would seem that in this sentence the sage 
Mustapha had reference to a patriotic dinner, cele- 
brated last fourth of July, by some gentlemen of Bal- 
timore, when they righteously drank perdition to an 
unoffending individual, and really thought that " they 
had done the state some service." This amiable cus- 
tom of * eating and drinking damnation" to others, 
is not confined to any party ; for a month or two after 
the fourth of July, the different newspapers file off 
their columns of patriotic toasts against each other, 
and take a pride in showing how brilliantly their par- 
tizans can blackgua. d public characters in their cups 
— .« they do but jest— poison in jest » as Hamlet says. 



the doctrines of the mild Nazarene, who 
preached peace and good will to all mankind ; 
who, when he was reviled, reviled not again ; 
who blessed those who cursed him, and prayed 
for those who despitefully used and persecuted 
him ! What, then, can give rise to this un- 
charitable, this inhuman custom among the 
disciples of a master, so gentle and forgiving ? 
It is that fiend Politics, Asem — that baneful 
fiend, which bewildereth every brain, and 
poisons every social feeling ; which intrudes 
itself at the festive banquet, and, like the de- 
testable harpy, pollutes the very viands of 
the table ; which contaminates the refreshing 
draught while it is inhaled ; which prompts 
the cowardly assassin to launch his poisoned 
arrows from behind the social board; and 
which renders the bottle, that boasted promo- 
ter of good fellowship and hilarity, an infernal 
engine charged with direful combustion. 

Oh, Asem ! Asem ! how does my heart 
sicken when I contemplate these cowardly 
barbarities ; let me, therefore, if possible, 
withdraw my attention from them for ever. 
My feelings have borne me from my subject ; 
and from the monuments of ancient great- 
ness, I have wandered to those of modern 
degradation. My warmest wishes remain 
with thee, thou most illustrious of slave-dri- 
vers ; mayest thou ever be sensible of the 
mercies of our great prophet, who, in com- 
passion to human imbecility, has prohibited 
his disciples from the use of the deluding 
beverage of the grape ; that enemy to reason 
— that promoter of defamation — that auxi- 
liary of politics. 

Ever thine, 

Mustapha.* 



No. 17. 
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1807. 
AUTUMNAL REFLECTIONS.* , 

BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAEF, ESQ. 

When a man is quietly journeying down- 
wards into the valley of the shadow of 

* In this letter of the sage Mustapha, there are 
some fine moral reflections : the satirical portion of 
it is, likewise, excellent, and we need scarcely add, is 
susceptible of more extensive application than to the 
usages of the republic. — Edit. 

8 



114 



SALMAGUNDI. 



departed youth, and begins to contemplate in 
a shortened perspective the end of his pilgri- 
mage, he becomes more solicitous than ever 
that the remainder of his wayfaring should 
be smooth and pleasant, and the evening of 
his life, like the evening of a summer's day, 
fade away in mild uninterrupted serenity. If 
haply his heart has escaped uninjured through 
the dangers of a seductive world, it may then 
administer to the purest of his felicities, and 
its chords vibrate more musically for the 
trials they have sustained — like the viol, 
which yields a melody sweet in proportion to 
its age. 

To a mind thus temperately harmonized, 
thus matured and mellowed by a long lapse 
of years, there is something truly congenial 
in the quiet enjoyment of our early autumn, 
amid the tranquillities of the country. There 
is a sober and chastened air of gaiety diffused 
over the face of nature, peculiarly interesting 
to an old man : and when he views the sur- 
rounding landscape withering under his eye, 
it seems as if he and nature were taking a 
last farewell of each other, and parting with 
a melancholy smile — like a couple of old 
friends who, having sported away the spring 
and summer of life together, part at the 
approach of winter with a kind of prophetic 
fear that they are never to meet again. 

It is either my good fortune or mishap to 
be keenly susceptible to the influence of the 
atmosphere ; and I can feel in the morning, 
before I open my window, whether the wind 
is easterly. It will not, therefore, I presume, 
be considered an extravagant instance of vain- 
glory when I assert, that there are few men 
who can discriminate more accurately in the 
different varieties of damps, fogs, Scotch- 
mists, and north-east storms, than myself. 
To the great discredit of my philosophy 
I confess, I seldom fail to anathematize and 
excommunicate the weather, when it sports 
too rudely with my sensitive system ; but 
then I always endeavour to atone therefore, 
by eulogizing it when deserving of appro- 
bation. And as most of my readers, simple 
folk ! make but one distinction, to wit, rain 
and sunshine — living in most honest igno- 
rance of the various nice shades which distin- 
guish one fine day from another — I take the 
trouble, from time to time, of letting them 



into some of the secrets of nature,— -so will thty 
be the better enabled to enjoy her beauties, 
with the zest of connoisseurs, and derive at 
least as much information from my pages, 
as from the weather-wise lore of the alma- 
nack. 

Much of my recreation, since I retreated 
to the Hall, has consisted in making little 
excursions through the neighbourhood, which 
abounds in the variety of wild, romantic, 
and luxuriant landscape that generally cha- 
racterizes the scenery in the vicinity of our 
rivers. There is not an eminence within a 
circuit of many miles but commands an ex- 
tensive range of diversified and enchanting 
prospect. 

Often have I rambled to the summit of 
some favourite hill, and, thence, with feelings 
sweetly tranquil as the lucid expanse of the 
heavens that canopied me, have noted the 
slow and almost imperceptible changes that 
mark the waning year. There are many 
features peculiar to our autumn, and which 
give it ,'an individual character : the " green 
and yellow melancholy " that first steals over 
the landscape — the mild and steady serenity 
of the weather and the transparent purity of 
the atmosphere speak, not merely to the 
senses but the heart, — it is the season of 
liberal emotions. To this succeeds fantastic 
gaiety, a motley dress, which the woods 
assume, where green and yellow, orange, 
purple, crimson, and scarlet, are whimsically 
blended together — A sickly splendour this ! 
— like the wild and broken-hearted gaiety 
that sometimes precedes dissolution, or that 
childish sportiveness of superannuated age, 
proceeding, not from a vigorous flow of ani- 
mal spirits, but from the decay and imbecility 
of the mind. We might, perhaps, be de- 
ceived by this gaudy garb of nature, were it 
not for the rustling of the falling leaf, 
which, breaking on the stillness of the scene, 
seems to announce, in prophetic whispers, 
the dreary winter that is approaching. When 
I have sometimes seen a thrifty young oak 
changing its hue of sturdy vigour for a bright, 
but transient glow of red, it has recalled to 
my mind the treacherous bloom that once 
mantled the cheek of a friend who is now no 
more ; and which, while it seemed to promise 
a long life of jocund spirits, was the sure 



SALMAGUNDI. 



11! 



precursor of premature decay. In a little 
while, and this ostentatious foliage disap- 
pears—the close of autumn leaves but one 
wide expanse of dusky brown, save where 
some rivulet steals along, bordered with little 
strips of green grass — the woodland echoes 
no more to the carols of the feathered tribes 
that sported in the leafy covert, and its soli- 
tude and silence is uninterrupted except by 
the plaintive whistle of the quail, the barking 
of the squirrel, or the still more melancholy 
wintry wind, which rushing and swelling 
through the hollows of the mountains, sighs 
through the leafless branches of the grove, 
and seems to mourn the desolation of the 
year. 

To one who, like myself, is fond of draw- 
ing comparisons between the different divi- 
sions of life, and those of the seasons, there 
will appear a striking analogy which connects 
the feelings of the age with the decline of the 
year. Often as I contemplate the mild, 
uniform, and genial lustre with which the 
sun cheers and invigorates us in the month 
of October, and the almost imperceptible 
haze which, without obscuring, tempers all 
the asperities of the landscape, and gives to 
every object a character of stillness and re- 
pose, I cannot help comparing it with that 
portion of existence, when the spring of 
youthful hope, and the summer of the pas- 
sions having gone by, reason assumes an 
undisputed sway, and lights us on with 
bright, but undazzling lustre, adown the hill 
of life. There is a full and mature luxuriance 
in the fields that fills the bosom with generous 
and disinterested content. It is not the 
thoughtless extravagance of spring, prodigal 
only in blossoms, nor the languid voluptuous- 
ness of summer, feverish in its enjoyments, 
and teeming only with immature abundance 
— it is that certain fruition of the labours 
of the past — that prospect of comfortable 
realities which those will be sure to enjoy 
who have improved the bounteous smiles of 
heaven, nor wasted away their spring and 
Bummer in empty trifling or criminal indul- 
gence. 

Cousin Pindar, who is my constant com- 
panion in these expeditions, and who still 
possesses much of the fire and energy of youth- 
ful sentiment, and a buxom hilarity of the 
I 2 



spirits often indeed draws me from these half- 
melancholy reveries, and makes me feel 
young again by the enthusiasm with which 
he contemplates, and the animation with 
which he eulogizes the beauties of nature 
displayed before him. His enthusiastic dis- 
position never allows him to enjoy things by 
halves, and his feelings are continually break- 
ing out in notes of admiration and ejaculations 
that sober reason might perhaps deem extra- 
vagant. But for my part, when I see a hale 
hearty old man, who has jostled through the 
rough path of the world, without having 
worn away the fine edge of his feelings, or 
blunted his sensibility to natural and moral 
beauty, I compare him to the ever-green of 
the forest, whose colours, instead of fading 
at the approach of winter, seem to assume 
additional lustre when contrasted with the 
surrounding desolation. — Such a man is my 
friend Pindar; yet sometimes, and particu- 
larly at the approach of evening, even he will 
fall in with my humour; but he soon re- 
covers his natural tone of spirits ; and, 
mounting on the elasticity of his mind, like 
Ganymede on the eagle's wing, he soars to 
the ethereal regions of sunshine and fancy. 

One afternoon we had strolled to the top 
of a high hill in the neighbourhood of the 
Hall, which commands an almost boundless 
prospect ; and as the shadows began to 
lengthen around us, and the distant moun- 
tains to fade into mists, my cousin was seized 
with a moralizing fit. f ' It seems to me," 
said he, laying his hand lightly on my shoul- 
der, " that there is just at this season, and 
this hour, a sympathy between us and the 
world we are now contemplating. The 
evening is stealing upon nature as well as 
upon us ; — the shadows of the opening day 
have given place to those of its close ; and 
the only difference is, that in the morning 
they were before us, now they are behind, and 
that the first vanished in the splendours of 
noon-day, the latter will be lost in the ob- 
livion of night Our ( May of life,' my dear 

Launce, has for ever fled; our summer is 
over and gone : — but," continued he, sud- 
denly recovering himself, and slapping me 
gaily on the shoulder, — " but why should 
we repine ? — What ? though the capricious 
zephyrs of springy the htats and hurricanes of 



HG 



SALMAGUNDI, 



summer, have given place to the sober 
sunshine of autumn — and though the woods 
begin to assume the dappled livery of decay ! 
— yet the prevailing colour is still green — gay, 
sprightly green. 

" Let us then comfort ourselves with this 
reflection ; that though the shades of the 
morning have given place to those of the 
evening — though the spring is past, the sum- 
mer over, and the autumn come, — still you 
and I go on our way rejoicing ; — and while, 
like the lofty mountains of our Southern 
America, our heads are covered with snow, 
still, like them we feel the genial warmth of 
spring and summer playing upon our bosoms. 



BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

In the description which I gave sometime 
since, of Cockloft-hall, I totally forgot to 
make honourable mention of the library ; 
which I confess was a most inexcusable over- 
sight ; for in truth it would bear a compari- 
son, in point of usefulness and eccentricity, 
with the motly collection of the renowned 
hero of La Mancha. 

It was chiefly gathered together by my 
grandfather ; who spared neither pains nor 
expense to procure specimens of the oldest, 
most quaint, and insufferable books in the 
whole compass of English, Scotch, and Irish 
literature. There is a tradition in the family 
that the old gentleman once gave a grand en- 
tertainment in consequence of having got 
possession of a copy of a Philippic, by Arch- 
bishop Anselm, against the unseemly luxury 
of long-toed shoes as worn by the courtiers 
in the time of William Rufus ; which he 
purchased of an honest brickmaker in the 
neighbourhood, for a little less than forty 
times its value. He had undoubtedly, a sin- 
gular reverence for old authors, and his 
highest eulogiuni on his library was, that it 
consisted of books not to be met with in any 
other collection ; and as the phrase is, en- 
tirely out of print. The reason of which was, 
I suppose, that they were not worthy of being 
re-printed. 

Cousin Christopher preserves these relics 
with great care, and has added considerably 
to the collection ; for with the hall he has 



inherited almost all the whim-whams of its 
former possessor. He cherishes a reverential 
regard for ponderous tomes of Greek and 
Latin ; though he knows about as much of 
these languages, as a young Bachelor of 
Arts, does a year or two after leaving Col- 
lege. A worm-eaten work in eight or ten 
volumes he compares to an old family, more 
respectable for its antiquity than its splen- 
dour ; — a lumbering folio he considers as a 
Duke; a sturdy quarto, as an Earl; and a 
row of gilded duodecimos, as so many gallant 
Knights of the Garter. But as to modern 
works of literature they are thrust into trunks 
and drawers, as intruding upstarts, and re- 
garded with as much contempt as mushroom 
nobility in England ; who, having risen to 
grandeur, merely by their talents and ser- 
vices, are regarded as utterly unworthy to 
mingle their blood with those noble currents 
that can be traced without a single contami- 
nation through "a long line of, perhaps, use- 
less and profligate ancestors, up to William 
the Bastard's cook, or butler, or groom, or 
some one of Rollo's freebooters. 

Will Wizard, whose studies are of a most 
uncommon complexion, takes great delight 
in ransacking the library ; and has been, du- 
ring his late sojournings at the Hall, very 
constant and devout in his visits to this recep- 
tacle of obsolete learning. He seemed parti- 
cularly tickled with the contents of the great 
mahogany chest of drawers mentioned in the 
beginning of this work. This venerable 
piece of architecture has frowned, in sullen 
majesty, from a corner of the library, time 
out of mind ; and is filled with musty ma-, 
nuscripts, some in my grandfather's hand- 
writing, and others evidently written long be- 
fore his day. 

It was a sight, worthy of a man's seeing, 
to behold Will with his outlandish phiz 
poring over old scrawls that would puzzle a 
whole society of antiquarians to expound, 
and diving into receptacles of trumpery, 
which, for a century past, had been undis- 
turbed by mortal hand. He would sit for 
whole hours, with a phlegmatic patience un- 
known in these degenerate days, except per- 
adventure, among the High Dutch Commen- 
tators, prying into the quaint obscurity ox 
musty parchments, until his whole face 



SALMAGUNDL 



117 



seemed to be converted into a folio leaf of 
black letter ; and occasionally, when the 
whimsical meaning of an obscure passage 
flashed on his mind, his countenance would 
curl up into an expression of Gothic risi- 
bility, not unlike the physiognomy of a cab- 
bage leaf wilting before a hot fire. 

At such times there was no getting Will 
to join in our walks, or take any part in our 
usual recreations ; he hardly gave us an 
Oriental tale in a week, and would smoke so 
inveterately that no one else dared enter the 
library under pain of suffocation. This waa 
more especially the case when he encountered 
any knotty piece of writing ; and he honestly 
confessed to me that one worm-eaten manu- 
script, written in a pestilent crabbed hand, 
had cost him a box of the best Spanish cigars 
before he could make it out ; and after all, it 
was not worth a tobacco-stalk. Such is the 
turn of my knowing associate ; only let him 
get fairly hi the track of any odd out of the 
way whim-wham, and away he goes, whip 
and cut, until he either runs down his game, 
or runs himself out of breath. — I never in 
my life met with a man who rode his hobby 
horse more intolerably hard than Wizard. 

One of his favourite occupations for some 
time past, has been the hunting of black- 
letter, which he holds in high regard ; and 
he often hints, that learning has been on the 
decline ever since the introduction of the 
Roman alphabet. An old book, printed 
three hundred years ago, is a treasure ; and 
a ragged scroll, about one half unintelligible, 
fills him with rapture. Oh S with what en- 
thusiasm will he dwell on the discovery of 
the Pandects of Justinian, and Livy's his- 
tory ; and when he relates the pious exertions 
of the Medici, in recovering the lost treasures 
of Greek and Roman literature, his eye 
brightens, and his face assumes all the splen- 
dour of an illuminated manuscript. 

Will had vegetated for a considerable time 
in perfect tranquillity among dust and cob- 
webs, when one morning as we were gathered 
on the piazza, listening with exemplary pa- 
tience to one of cousin Christopher's long 
stories about the revolutionary war, we were 
suddenly electrified by an explosion of laugh- 
ter from the library — My readers, unless 
peradvcnture they have heard honest Will 
I 3 



laugh, can form no idea of the prodigious 
uproaT he makes. To hear him in a forest 
you would imagine, that is to say, if you 
were classical enough, that the satyrs and 
the dryads had just discovered a pair of rural 
lovers in the shade, and were deriding, with 
bursts of obstreperous laughter, the blushes 
of the nymph and the indignation of the 
swain ; or if it were suddenly, as in the pre- 
sent instance, to break upon the serene and 
pensive silence of an autumnal morning, it 
would cause a sensation something like that 
which arises from hearing a sudden clap of 
thunder in a summer's day, when not a cloud 
is to be seen above the horizon. In short, I 
recommend Will's laugh as a sovereign re- 
medy for the spleen ; and if any of our rea- 
ders are troubled with that villanous com- 
plaint, which can hardly be, if they make 
good use of our works, — I advise them earn- 
estly to get introduced to him forthwith. 

This outrageous merriment of Will's, as 
may be easily supposed, threw the whole fa- 
mily into a violent fit of wondering ; we all, 
with the exception of Christopher, who took 
the interruption in high dudgeon, silently 
stole up to the library ; and bolting in upon 
him, were fain at the first glance to join in 
his aspiring roar. His face, — but I despair 
to give an idea of his appearance ! — and until 
his portrait, which is now in the hands of an 
eminent artist, is engraved, my readers must 
be content : — I promise them they shall one 
day or other, have a striking likeness of 
Will's indescribable phiz, in all its native 
comeliness. 

Upon my inquiring the occasion of his 
mirth, he thrust an old, rusty, musty, and 
dusty manuscript into my hand, of which I 
could not decipher one word out of ten, with- 
out more trouble than it was worth. This 
task, however, he kindly took off my hands ; 
and, in little more than eight and forty hours, 
produced a translation into fair Roman let- 
ters ; though he assured me it had lost a vast 
deal of its humour by being modernized and 
degraded into plain English. In return for 
the great pains he had taken, I could not do 
less than insert it in our work. Will in- 
forms me that it is but one sheet of a stupen- 
dous bundle which still remains uninvestiga- 
ted; — who was the author we \&xc not y** 



113 



SALMAGUNDI. 



discovered ; hut a note on the back, in my 
grandfather's hand-writing, informs us that 
it was presented to him as a literary curiosity 
by his particular friend, the illustrious Rip 
Van Dam, formerly lieutenant-governor of 
the colony of New Amsterdam ; and whose 
fame if it has never reached these latter days, 
it is only because he was too modest a man 
ever to do any thing worthy of being particu- 
larly recorded. 



CHAP. CIX. 

Of the Chronicles of the Renoumed and 
Ancient City of Gotham. 

How Gotham city conquered was, 

And how the folk turn'd apes— because.— Link. Fid. 

Albeit, much- about this time it did fall 
out that the thrice renowned and delectable 
city of Gotham did suffer great discomfiture, 
and was reduced to perilous extremity, by 
invasion and assaults of the Hoppingtots. 
These are a people inhabiting a far distant 
country, exceedingly pleasaunte and fertile ; 
but they being withal egregiously addicted to 
migrations do thence issue forth in mighty 
swarms, like the Scythians of old, over- 
running divers countries, and commonwealths, 
and committing great devastations whereso- 
ever they do go by their horrible and dreadful 
feats and prowesses. They are specially noted 
for being right valorous in all exercises of 
the leg ; and of them it hath been rightly 
affirmed that no nation in all Christendom or 
elsewhere, can cope with them in the adroit, 
dexterous, and jocund shaking of the heel. 

This engaging excellence doth stand unto 
them a sovereign recommendation, by the 
which they do insinuate themselves into 
universal favour and good countenance ; and 
it is a notable fact that, let a Hoppingtot 
but once introduce a foot into company, and 
it goeth hardly if he doth not contrive to 
flourish his whole body in thereafter. The 
learned Linkum Fidelius, in his famous and 
unheard-of treatise on man, whom he de- 
fineth with exceeding sagacity, to be a corn- 
cutting, tooth-drawing animal, is particularly 
minute and elaborate in treating of the na- 
tion of the Hoppingtots ; and betrays a little 
of the Pythagorean in his theory, inasmuch 



as he accounteth for their being so wonder- 
ously adroit in pedestrian exercises, by sup- 
posing that they did originally acquire this 
unaccountable and unparalelled aptitude for 
huge and unmatchable feats of the leg, by 
having heretofore been condemned for their 
numerous offences against that harmless race 
of bipeds, or quadrupeds, (for herein the 
sage Linkum Fidelius appeareth to doubt 
and waver exceedingly,) the frogs, to ani- 
mate their bodies for the space of one or two 
generations. He also giveth it as his opinion, 
that the name of Hoppingtots is manifestly 
derivative from this transmigration. Be this, 
however, as it may, the matter, albeit it hath 
been the subject of controversy among the 
learned, is but little pertinent to the subject 
of this history ; wherefore shall we treat and 
consider it as naughte. 

Now these people being thereto impelled 
by a superfluity of appetite, and a plentiful 
deficiency of the wherewithal to satisfy the 
same, did take thought that the ancient and 
venerable city of Gotham was, peradventure, 
possessed of mighty treasures, and did, more- 
over, abound with all manner of fish and 
flesh, and eatables and drinkables, and such 
like delightsome and wholesome excellencies 
withal. Whereupon, calling a council of 
the most active heeled warriors, they did re- 
solve forthwith to put forth a mighty array, 
make themselves masters of the same, and 
revel in the good things of the land. To 
this were they hotly stirred up, and wickedly 
incited, by two redoubtable and renowned 
warriors, hight Pirouet and Rigadoon; 
ycleped in such sort, by reason that they 
were two mighty, valiant, and invincible 
little men; utterly famous for the victories 
of the leg which they had, on divers illus- 
trious occasions, right gallantly achieved. 

These doughty champions did ambitiously 
and wickedly inflame the minds of their 
countrymen, with gorgeous descriptions, in 
the which they did cunningly set forth the 
marvellous riches and luxuries of Gotham ; 
where Hoppingtots might have garments for 
their bodies, shirts to their ruffles, and might 
riot most merrily every day in the week on 
beef, pudding, and such like lusty dainties — 

They, Pirouet and Rigadoon, did likewise 
hold out hopes of an easy conquest ; foras- 



SALMAGUNDI. 



119 



much as the Gothamites were as yet but 
little versed in the mystery and science of 
handling the legs; and being, moreover, 
like unto that notable bully of antiquity, 
Acbilles, most vulnerable to all attacks on 
the heel, would doubtless surrender at the 
very first assault. Whereupon, on the hear- 
ing of this inspiriting council, the Hopping- 
tots did set up a prodigious great cry of joy, 
shook their heels in triumph, and were all 
impatience to dance on to Gotham and take 
it by storm. 

The cunning Pirouet, and the arch caitiff 
Rigadoon, knew full well how to profit by 
this enthusiasm. They forthwith did order 
every man to arm himself with a certain 
pestilent little weapon, called a fiddle ; — to 
pack up in his knapsack a pair of silk 
breeches, the like of ruffles, a cocked hat the 
form of a half moon, a bundle of cat-gut — 
and inasmuch as in marching to Gotham, 
the army might, peradventure, be smitten 
with scarcity of provisions, they did account 
it proper that each man should take especial 
care to carry with him a bunch of right mer- 
chantable onions. Having proclaimed these 
orders by sound of fiddle, they, Pirouet and 
Rigsdoon, did accordingly put their army 
behind them, and striking up the right jolly 
and sprightful tune of Ca Ira, away they all 
capered towards the devoted city of Gotham, 
with a most horrible and appalling chattering 
of voices. 

Of their first appearance before the be- 
leagured town, and of the various difficulties 
which did encounter them in their march, 
this history saith not ; being that other mat- 
ters of more weighty import require to be 
written. When that the army of the Hop- 
pingtots did peregrinate within sight of 
Gotham, and the people of the city did behold 
the villanous, and hitherto unseen capers, 
and grimaces, which they did make, a most 
horrific panic was stirred up among the 
citizens : and the sages of the town fell into 
great despondency and tribulation, as sup- 
posing that these invaders were of the race of 
the Jig-hees, who did make men into baboons 

when they achieved a conquest over them. 

The sages, therefore, called upon all the 
dancing men and dancing women, and ex- 
horted them with great vehemency of speech, 



to make heel against the invaders, and to put 
themselves upon such gallant defence, such 
glorious array, and such sturdy evolution, 
elevation, and transposition of the foot, as 
might incontinently impester the legs of the 
Hoppingtots, and produce their complete 
discomfiture. But so it did happen, by 
great mischance, that divers light-heeled 
youth of Gotham, more especially those who 
are descended from three wise men so re- 
nowned of yore, for having most venture- 
somely voyaged over sea in a bowl, were 
from time to time captured and inveigled 
into the camp of the enemy ; where being 
foolishly cajoled and treated for a season 
with outlandish disports and pleasauntries, 
they were sent back to their friends, entirely 
changed, degenerated, and turned topsy-turvy; 
insomuch that they thought thenceforth of 
nothing but their heels, always essaying to 
thrust them into the most manifest point of 
view; — and, in a word, as might truly be 
affirmed, did for ever after walk upon their 
heads outright. 

And the Hoppingtots did day by day, and 
at late hours of the night, wax more and 
more urgent in this their investment of the 
city. At one time they would, in goodly 
procession, make an open assault by sound of 
fiddle in a tremendous contradance ; — and 
anon they would advance by little detach- 
ments and manoeuvre to take the town by 
figuring in cotillons. But truly their most 
cunning and devilish craft, and subtilty, was 
made manifest in their strenuous endeavours 
to corrupt the garrison, by a most insidious 
and pestilent dance called the Waltz. This, 
in good truth, was a potent auxiliary ; for by 
it were the heads of the simple Gothamites 
most villanously turned, their wits sent a 
wool-gathering, and themselves on the point 
of surrendering at discretion, even unto the 
very arms of their invading foemen. 

At length the fortifications of the town 
began to give manifest symptoms of decay ; 
inasmuch as the breastwork of decency was 
considerably broken down, and the curtain 
work of propriety blown up. When the 
cunning caitiff Pirouet beheld the ticklish 
and jeopardized state of the city — " Now, by 
my leg," quoth he, — he always swore by his 
leg, being that it was an exceeding goodlie 



120 



SALMAGUNDI. 



leg — "Now by my leg," quoth he, "but 
this is no great matter of recreation ; — I will 
show these people a pretty, strange, and new 
way forsooth, prescntlie, and will shake the 
dust off my pumps upon this most obstinate 
and uncivilized town." Whereupon he or- 
dered, and did command his warriors, one 
and all, that they should put themselves 
in readiness, and prepare to carry the town by 
a grand ball. They, in no wise to be daunted, 
do forthwith, at the word, equip themselves 
for the assault ; and, in good faith, truly it 
was a gracious and glorious sight, a most 
triumphant and incomparable spectacle, to 
behold them gallantly arrayed in glossy and 
shining silk breeches, tied with abundance of 
riband; with silken hose of the gorgeous 
colour of the salmon ; — right goodlie morocco 
pumps decorated with clasps or buckles of a 
most cunninge and secret contrivance, inas- 
much as they did of themselves grapple to 
the shoe without any aid of fluke or tongue 
marvellously ensembling witchcraft and ne- 
cromancy. They had, withall, exuberant 
chitterlings ; which puffed out at the neck 
and bosom, after a most jolly fashion, like 
unto the beard of an ancient he-turkey ; and 
cocked hats, the which they did carry not on 
their heads, after the fashion of the Gotha- 
mites, but under their arms, as a roasted fowl 
his gizzard. 

Thus being equipped, and marshalled, 
they do attack, assault, batter and belabour 
the town with might and main ; most gal- 
lantly displaying the vigour of their legs, and 
shaking their heels at it most emphatically. 
And the manner of their attack was in this 
sort: — first, they did thunder and gallop 
forward in a contre temps ; — and anon, dis- 
played column in a Cossack dance, a fan- 
dango, or a gavot. Whereat the Gothamites, 
in no wise understanding this unknown sys- 
tem of warfare, marvelled exceedinglie, and 
did open their mouths incontinently, the full 
distance of a bow shot, meaning a cross-bow, 
in sore dismay and apprehension. Where- 
upon, saith Rigadoon, flourishing his left leg 
with great expression of valour, and most 
magnific carriage — " My copesmates, for 
what wait we here ; are not the townsmen 
already won to our favour ? — Do not their 
women and young damsels wave to us from 



the walls in such sort that, albeit there is 
some show of defence, yet is it manifestly 
converted into our interests ?" So saying, he 
made no more ado, but leaping into the air 
about a flight-shot, and crossing his feet six 
times, after the manner of the Hoppingtots, 
he gave a short partridge run, and with 
mighty vigour and swiftness, did bolt out- 
right over the walls with a somerset. The 
whole army of Hoppingtots danced in after 
their valiant chieftain, with an enormous 
squeaking of fiddles, and a horrific blasting 
and brattling of horns; insomuch that the 
dogs did howl in the streets, so hideously 
were their ears assailed. The Gothamites 
made some semblance of defence ; but their 
women having been all won over into the 
interest of the enemy, they were shortly 
reduced to make most abject submission ; 
and delivered over to the coercion of certain 
professors of the Hoppingtots, who did put 
them under most ignominious durance, for 
the space of a long time, until they had 
learned to turn out their toes, and flourish 
their legs after the true manner of their con- 
querors. And thus, after the manner I have 
related, was the mighty and puissant city of 
Gotham circumvented, and taken by a coup 
de pied ; or, as it might be rendered, by foice 
of legs. 

The conquerors showed no mercy, but did 
put all ages, sexes and conditions, to the 
fiddle and the danee ; and, in a word, com- 
pelled and enforced them to become absolute 
Hoppingtots. "Habit," as the ingenious 
Linkum Fidelius profoundly affirmeth, " is 
second nature." And thi3 original and in- 
valuable observation hath been most aptly 
proved, and illustrated, by the example of 
the Gothamites, ever since this disastrous and 
unlucky mischance. In process of time, 
they have waxed to be most flagrant, out- 
rageous, and abandoned dancers ; they do 
ponder on noughte but how to gallantize it at 
balls, routs, and fandangoes — insomuch that 
the like was, and in no time or place, ever 
observed before. They do, moreover, piti- 
fully devote their nights to the jollification of 
the legs, and their days forsooth to the in- 
struction and edification of the heel. And to 
conclude, their young folk, who, while some 
did bestow a modicum of leisure upon the 



SALMAGUNDI. 



121 



improvement of the head, have of late ut- 
terly abandoned this hopeless task, and have 
quietly, as it were, settled themselves down 
•into mere machines, wound up by a tune, 
and set in motion by a fiddle-stick ! 



No. 18. 

TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 24, 1807. 

THE LITTLE MAN IN BLACK. 

BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

The following story has been handed down 
by family tradition for more than a century. 
It is one on which my cousin Christopher 
dwells with more than usual prolixity ; and, 
being in some measure connected with a per- 
sonage often quoted in our work, I have 
thought it worthy of being laid before my 
readers. 

Soon after my grandfather, Mr. Lemuel 
Cockloft, had quietly settled himself at the 
Hall, and just about the time that the gos- 
sips of the neighbourhood, tired of prying 
into his affairs, were anxious for some new 
tea-table topic, the busy community of our 
little village was thrown into a grand turmoil 
of curiosity and conjecture — a situation very 
common to little gossiping villages, by the 
sudden and unaccountable appearance of a 
mysterious individual. 

The object of this solicitude was a little 
black looking man, of a foreign aspect, who 
took possession of an old building, which 
having long had the reputation of being 
haunted, was in a state of ruinous desolation, 
and an object of fear to all true believers in 
ghosts. He usually wore a high sugar-loaf 
hat with a narrow brim, and a little black 
cloak which, short as he was, scarcely reached 
below his knees. He sought no intimacy or 
acquaintance with any one — appeared to take 
no interests in the pleasures or the little broils 
of the village — nor ever talked, except some- 
times to himself in an outlandish tongue. 
He commonly carried a large book, covered 
with sheepskin, under his arm — appeared 
always to be lost in meditation — and was 
often met by the peasantry, sometimes watch- 
ing the dawning of day, sometimes at noon 
seated under a tree poring over his volume, 



and sometimes at evening gazing, with a look 
of sober tranquillity, at the sun as it gradu- 
ally sunk below the horizon. 

The good people of the vicinity beheld 
something prodigiously singular in all this ; 
a profound mystery seemed to hang about the 
stranger which, with all their sagacity, they 
could not penetrate ; and in the excess of 
worldly charity they pronounced it a sure sign 
" that he was no better than he should be ;" 
a phrase innocent enough in itself; but 
which, as applied in common, signifies 
nearly every thing that is bad. The young 
people thought him a gloomy misanthrope, 
because he never joined in their sports ; the 
old men thought still more hardly of him be- 
cause he followed no trade, nor ever seemed 
ambitious of earning a farthing ; and as to 
the old gossips, baffled by the inflexible 
taciturnity of the stranger, they unanimously 
decreed that a man who could not or would 
not talk was no better than a dumb beast. 
The little man in black, careless of their 
opinions, seemed resolved to maintain the 
liberty of keeping his own secret ; and the 
consequence was, that, in a little while, the 
whole village was in an uproar ; for in little 
communities of this description, the mem- 
bers have always the privilege of being tho- 
roughly versed, 'ind even of meddlLig in all 
the affairs of each other. 

A confidential conference was held one Sun- 
day morning after sermon, at the door of the 
village church, and the character of the un- 
known fully investigated. The schoolmaster 
gave as his opinion that he was the wander- 
ing Jew ; the sexton was certain that he must 
be a free-mason from his silence : a thiird 
maintained, with great obstinacy, that lie 
was a High German doctor, and that the 
book which he carried about with him, con- 
tained the secrets of the black art ; but the 
most prevailing opinion seemed to be that he 
was a witch — a race of beings at that time 
abounding in those parts : and a sagacious 
old matron, from Connecticut, proposed to 
ascertain the fact by sousing him into a kettle 
of hot water. 

Suspicion, when once afloat, goes with 
wind and tide, and soon becomes certainty. 
Many a stormy night was the little man in 
black seen by the flashes of lightning, frisk- 



122 



SALMAGUNDI. 



iiig, and curveting in the air upon a broom- 
stick; and it was always observed, that at 
those times the storm did more mischief than 
at any other. The old lady in particular, 
who suggested the humane ordeal of the 
boiling kettle, lost on one of these occasions 
a fine brindle cow ; which accident was en- 
tirely ascribed to the vengeance of the little 
man in black. If ever a mischievous hireling 
rode his master's favourite horse to a distant 
frolic, and the animal was observed to be 
lamed and jaded in the morning, — the little 
man in black was sure to be at the bottom of 
the affair; nor could a high wind howl 
through the village at night, but the old wo- 
men shrugged up their shoulders and observ- 
ed, " the little man in black was in his 
tantrums." In short he became the bugbear 
of every house; and was as effectual in 
frightening little children into obedience and 
hystericks, as the redoubtable Kaw-head-and- 
bloody -bones himself; nor could a house- 
wife of the village sleep in peace, except 
under the guardianship of a horse-shoe nailed 
to the door. 

The object of these direful suspicions re- 
mained for some time, totally ignorant of the 
wonderful quandary he had occasioned ; but 
he was soon doomed to feel its effects. An 
individual who is once so unfortunate as to 
incur the odium of a village, is in a great 
measure outlawed and proscribed, and be- 
comes a mark for injury and insult ; particu- 
larly if he has not the power or the disposi- 
tion to recriminate. — The little venomous 
passions, which in the great world are dissi- 
pated and weakened by being widely diffused, 
act in the narrow limits of a country town 
with collected vigour, and become rancorous 
in proportion as they are confined in their 
sphere of action. The little man in black 
experienced the truth of this : every mis- 
chievous urchin returning from school, had 
full liberty to break his windows ; and this 
was considered as a most daring exploit ; for 
in such awe did they stand of him, that the 
most adventurous schoolboy was never seen 
to approach his threshold, and at night 
would prefer going round by the cross-roads, 
where a traveller had been murdered by the 
Indians, rather than pass by the door of his 
forlorn habitation. 



The only living creature that seemed to 
have any care or affection for this deserted 
being, was an old turnspit, — the companion 
of his lonely mansion and his solitary wan- 
derings ; — the sharer of his scanty meals, 
and, soiry am I to say it, — the sharer of his 
persecutions. The turnspit, like his master, 
was peaceable and inoffensive ; never known 
to bark at a horse, to growl at a traveller, or 
to quarrel with the dogs of the neighbour- 
hood. He followed close at his master's 
heels when he went out, and when he re- 
turned stretched himself in the sunbeams at 
the door ; demeaning himself in all things 
like a civil and well disposed turnspit. But 
notwithstanding his exemplary deportment 
he fell likewise under the ill report of the 
village ; as being the familiar of the little 
man in black, and the evil spirit that pre- 
sided at his incantations. The old hovel 
was considered as the scene of their unhal- 
lowed rites, and its harmless tenants regard- 
ed with a detestation which their inoffensive 
conduct never merited. Though pelted and 
jeered at by the brats of the village, and fre- 
quently abused by their parents, the little 
man in black never turned to rebuke them ; 
and his faithful dog, when wantonly as- 
saulted, looked up wistfully in his master's 
face, and there learned a iesson of patience 
and forbearance. 

The movements of this inscrutable being 
had long been the subject of speculation at 
Cockloft-hall, for its inmates were full as 
much given to wondering as their descen- 
dants. The patience with which he bore his 

persecutions, particularly surprised them . 

for patience is a virtue but little known in the 
Cockloft family. My grandmother, who, it 
appears, was rather superstitious, saw in 
this humility nothing but the gloomy sullen- 
ness of a wizard, who restrained himself for 
the present, in hopes of midnight vengeance 
— the parson of the village, who was a man 
of some reading, pronounced it the stubborn 
insensibility of a stoic philosopher — my 
grandfather, who, worthy soul, seldom wan- 
dered abroad in search of conclusions, took 
datum from his own excellent heart, and re- 
garded it as the humble forgiveness of a 
christian* But however different were their 
opinions as to the character of the stranger. 



SALMAGUNDI. 



123 



they agreed in one particular, namely, in 
never intruding upon his solitude ; and my 
grandmother, who was at that time nursing 
my mother, never left the room without 
wisely putting the large family hible in the 
cradle — a sure talisman, in her opinion, 
against witchcraft and necromancy. 

One stormy winter night, when a bleak 
north-east wind moaned about the cottages, 
and howled around the village steeple, my 
grandfather was returning from club preceded 
by a servant with a lantern. Just as he ar- 
rived opposite the desolate abode of the little 
man in black, he was arrested by the piteous 
howling of a dog which, heard in the pauses 
of a storm, was exquisitely mournful ; and 
he fancied now and then, that he caught the 
low and broken groans of some one in dis- 
tress. He stopped for some minutes, hesi- 
tating between the benevolence of his heart 
and a sensation of genuine delicacy, which in 
spite of his eccentricity he fully possessed, — 
and which forbade him to pry into the con- 
cerns of his neighbours. Perhaps, too, this 
hesitation might have been strengthened by a 
little taint of superstition ; for surely, if the 
unknown had been addicted to witchcraft, 
this was a most propitious night for his va- 
garies. At length the old gentleman's phi- 
lanthropy predominated ; he approached the 
hovel, and pushing open the door, — for po- 
verty has no occasion for locks and keys, 
— beheld^ by the light of the lantern, a 
scene that smote his generous heart to the 
core. 

On a miserable bed, with pallid and ema- 
ciated visage and hollow eyes ; in a room 
destitute of every convenience ; without fire 
to warm or friend to console him, lay this 
helpless mortal who had been so long the 
terror and wonder Of the village. His dog 
was crouching on the scanty coverlet, and 
shivering with cold. My grandfather stepped 
softly and hesitatingly to his bed-side, and 
accosted the forlorn sufferer in his usual ac- 
cents of kindness. The little man in black 
seemed recalled by the tones of compassion 
from the lethargy into which he had fallen ; 
for, though his heart was almost frozen, there 
was yet one chord that answered to the call 
of the good old man who bent over him ; — 
the tones of sympathy, so novel to his ear, 



called back his wandering senses, and acted 
like a restorative to his solitary feelings. 

He raised his eyes, but they were vacant 
and haggard ; — he put forth his hand, but it 
was cold ; he essayed to speak, but the 
sound died away in his throat ; — he pointed 
to his mouth with an expression of dreadful 
meaning, and sad to relate ! my grandfather 
understood that the harmless stranger, de- 
serted by society, was perishing with hunger I 
— With the quick impulse of- humanity he 
dispatched the servant to the Hall for refresh- 
ment. A little warm nourishment renovated 
him for a short time, but not long ; it was 
evident his pilgrimage was drawing to a close, 
and he was about entering that peaceful 
asylum, where " the wicked cease from 
troubling.'* 

His tale of misery was short and quickly 
told; — infirmities had stolen upon him, 
heightened by the rigours of the season ; he 
had taken to his bed without strength to rise 
and ask for assistance ; " and if I had," said 
he, in a tone of bitter despondency, " to 
whom should I have applied ? I have no 
friend that I know of in the world 3-^-The 
villagers avoid me as something loathsome 
and dangerous ; and here, in the midst of 
christians, should I have perished without a 
fellow being to soothe the last moments of ex- 
istence, and close my dying eyes, had not 
the howlings of my faithful dog excited your 
attention." 

He seemed deeply sensible of the kindness 
of my grandfather ; and at one time as he 
looked up into his old benefactor's face, a so- 
litary tear was observed to steal adown the 
parched furrows of his cheek. — Poor outcast ! 
—it was the last tear he shed ; but I warrant 
it was not the first by millions ! My grand- 
father watched by him all night. Towards 
morning he gradually declined ; and as the 
rising sun gleamed through the window, he 
begged to be raised in his bed that he might 
look at it for the last time. He contemplated 
it for a moment with a kind of religious en- 
thusiasm, and bis lips moved as if engaged 
in prayer. The strange conjectures concern- 
ing him rushed on my grandfather's mind. 
" He is an idolater !" thought he, " and is 
worshipping the sun i" He listened a mo- 
ment and blushed at his own uncharitable 



124 



SALMAGUNDI. 



suspicion ; lie was only engaged in the pious 
devotions of a christian. His simple orison 
being finished, the little man in black with- 
drew his eyes from the east, and taking my 
grandfather's hand in one of his, and making 
a motion with the other towards the sun : — 
" I love to contemplate it," said he, " 'tis 
an emblem of the universal benevolence of 
a true christian ; — and it is the most glorious 
work of him who is philanthropy itself!" 
My grandfather blushed still deeper at his 
ungenerous surmises; he had pitied the 
stranger at first, but now he revered him : — 
he turned once more to regard him, but his 
countenance had undergone a change; the 
holy enthusiasm that had lighted up each 
feature had given place to an expression of 
mysterious import; — a gleam of grandeur 
seemed to steal across his gothic visage, and 
he appeared full of some mighty secret which 
he hesitated to impart. He raised the tatter- 
ed nightcap that had sunk almost over his 
eyes, and waving his withered hand with a 
slow and feeble expression of dignity — " In 
me," said he, with laconic solemnity, — " In 
me you behold the last descendant of the re- 
nowned Linkum Fidelius !" My grandfather 
gazed at him with reverence ; for though he 
had never heard of the illustrious personage, 
thus pompously announced, yet there was a 
certain black-letter dignity in the name that 
peculiarly struck his fancy and commanded 
his respect. 

" You have been kind to me," continued 
the little man in black, after a momentary 
pause, " and richly will I requite your kind- 
ness by making you heir to my treasures ! 
In yonder large deal box are the volumes of 
my illustrious ancestor, of which I alone am 
the fortunate possessor. Inherit them — pon- 
der over them, and be wise !" He grew 
faint with the exertion he had made, and 
sunk back almost breathless on his pillow. 
His hand, which, inspired with the impor- 
tance of his subject, he had raised to my 
grandfather's arm, slipped from its hold and 
fell over the side of the bed, and his faithful 
dog licked it; as if anxious to soothe the last 
moments of his master and testify his grati- 
tude to the hand that had so often cherished 
him. The untaught caresses of the faithful 
animal were not lost upon his dying master ; 



he raised his languid eyes — turned them on 
the dog, then on my grandfather ; and hav- 
ing given this silent recommendation — closed 
them for ever. 

. The remains of the little man in black, 
notwithstanding the objections of many pious 
people, were decently interred in the church- 
yard of the village ; and his spirit, harmless 
as the body it once animated, has never been 
known to molest a living being. My grand- 
father complied as far as possible with his 
last request; he conveyed the volumes of 
Linkum Fidelius to his library ; — he pon- 
dered over them frequently ; but whether he 
grew wiser, the tradition doth not mention. 
This much is certain, that his kindness to 
the poor descendant of Fidelius was amply 
rewarded by the approbation of his own heart, 
and the devoted attachment of the old turn- 
spit; who," transferring his affection from 
his deceased master to his benefactor, became 
his constant attendant and was father to a 
long line of runty curs that still flourish in 
the family. And thus was the Cockloft 
library first enriched by the invaluable folios 
of the sage Linkum Fidelius. 



LETTER 



FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN 

To Asem Hacchem, principal slave-driver to 
his Highness the Bashaw of Tripoli. 

Though I am often disgusted, my good 
Asem, with the vices and absurdities of the 
men of this country, yet the women afford 
me a world of amusement. Their 'lively 
prattle is as diverting as the chattering of the 
red-tailed parrot ; nor can the green-headed 
monkey of Timandi equal them in whim and 
playfulness. But, notwithstanding these va- 
luable qualifications, I am sorry to observe 
they are not treated with half the attention 
bestowed on the before-mention animals. 
These infidels put their parrots in cages and 
chain their monkeys; but their women, in- 
stead of being carefully shut up in harems 
and seraglios, are abandoned to the direction 
of their own reason, and suffered to run 
about in perfect freedom like other domestic 
animals : this comes, Asem, of treating their 
women as rational beings, and allowing them 



SALMAGUNDI. 



125 



souls. The consequence of this piteous neg- 
lect may easily be imagined ; — they have de- 
generated into all their native wildness, are 
seldom to be caught at home, and, at an early 
age, take to the streets and highways, where 
they rove about in droves, giving almost as 
much annoyance to the peaceable people, as 
the troops of wild dogs that infest our great 
cities, or the flights of locusts, that some- 
times spread famine and desolation over whole 
regions of fertility. 

This propensity to relapse into pristine 
wildness, convinces me of the untameable 
disposition of the sex, who may indeed be 
partially domesticated by a long course of 
confinement and restraint, but the moment 
they are restored to personal freedom, become 
wild as the young partridge of this country, 
which, though scarcely half hatched, will 
take to the fields and run about with the shell 
upon its back. « 

Notwithstanding their wildness, however, 
they are remarkably easy of access, and suffer 
themselves to be approached, at certain hours 
of the day, without any symptoms of appre- 
hension ; and I have even happily succeeded 
in detecting them at their domestic occupa- 
tions. One of the most important of these 
consists in thumping vehemently on a kind 
of musical instrument, and producing a con- 
fused, hideous, and indefinable uproar, which 
they call the description of a battle — a jest, 
no doubt, for they are wonderfully facetious 
at times, and make great practice of passing 
jokes upon strangers. Sometimes they em- 
ploy themselves in painting little caricatures 
of landscapes, wherein they will display their 
singular drollery in bantering nature fairly 
out of countenance — representing her tricked 
out in all the tawdry finery of copper skies, 
purple rivers, calico rocks, red grass, clouds 
that look like old clothes set adrift by the 
tempest, and foxy trees, whose melancholy 
foliage, drooping and curling most fantasti- 
cally, reminds me of an undressed perriwig 
thai I have, now and then, seen hung on a 

stick in a barber's window At other times, 

they employ themselves in acquiring a smat- 
tering of languages spoken by nations on the 
other side of the globe, as they find their 
own language not sufficiently copious to sup- 
ply their constant demands, and express their 



multifarious ideas. But their most impor- 
tant domestic avocation is, to embroider, on 
satin or muslin, flowers of a non-descript 
kind, in which the great art is to make 
them as unlike nature as possible; or to 
fasten little bits of silver, gold, tinsel, and 
glass, on long strips of muslin, which they 
drag after them with much dignity when- 
ever they go abroad — a fine lady, like a bird 
of paradise, being estimated by the length 
of her tail. 

But do not, my friend, fall into the enor- 
mous error of supposing, that the exercise 
of these arts is attended with any useful or 
profitable result : believe me, thou couldst 
not indulge an idea more unjust and inju- 
rious ; for it appears to be an established 
maxim among the women of this country, 
that. a lady loses her dignity when she con- 
descends to be useful, and forfeits all rank 
in society the moment she can be convicted of 
earning a farthing. Their labours, there- 
fore, are directed not towards supplying their 
household, but in decking their persons, and 
— generous souls ! — they deck their persons, 
not so much to please themselves, as to gra- 
tify others, particularly strangers. I am 
confident thou wilt stare at this, my good 
Asem, accustomed as thou art to our eastern 
females, who shrink in blushing timidity 
even from the glances of a lover, and are so 
chary of their favours, that they even seem 
fearful of lavishing their smiles too profusely 
on their husbands. Here, on the contrary, 
the stranger has the first place in female re- 
gard, and, so far do they carry their hospi- 
tality, that I have seen a fine lady slight a 
dozen tried friends and real admirers, who 
lived in her smiles and made her happiness 
their study, merely to alluie the vague and 
wandering glances of a stranger, who viewed 
her person with indifference, and treated her 
advances with contempt. — By the whiskers 
of our sublime bashaw, but this is highly 
flattering to a foreigner ! and thou mayest 
judge how particularly pleasing to one who 
is, like myself, so ardent an admirer of the 
sex. Far be it from me to condemn this ex- 
traordinary manifestation of good will — let 
their own countrymen look to that. 

Be not alarmed, I conjure thee, my dear 
Asem, lest I should be tempted, by these 



12G 



SALMAGUNDI 



beautiful barbarians, to break the faith I owe 
to the three-and-twenty wives, from whom 
my unhappy destiny has perhaps severed me 
for ever : — no, Asem, neither time, nor the 
bitter succession of misfortunes that pursues 
me, can shake from my heart the memory of 
former attachments. I listen with tranquil 
heart to the strumming and prattling of these 
fair sirens : their whimsical paintings touch 
not the tender chord of my affections ; and 
I would still defy their facinations, though 
they trailed after them trails as long as the 
gorgeous trappings which are dragged at the 
heels of the holy camel of Mecca, or as the 
tail of the great beast in our prophet's vision, 
which measured three hundred and forty-nine 
leagues, two miles, three furlongs, and a 
hand's breadth in longitude. 

The dress of these women is, if possible, 
more eccentric and whimsical than their 
deportment ; and an inordinate pride in cer- 
tain ornaments which are probably derived 
from their savage progenitors. A woman of 
this country, dressed out for an exhibition, is 
loaded with as many ornaments as a Cir- 
cassian slave when brought out for sale.— 
Their heads are tricked out with little bits of 
horn or shell, cut into fantastic shapes, and 
they seem to emulate each other in the num- 
ber of these singular baubles, like the women 
we have seen in our journeys to Aleppo, who 
cover their heads with the entire shell of a 
tortoise, and, thus equipped, are the envy of 
all their less fortunate acquaintance. They 
also decorate their necks and ears with coral, 
gold chains, and glass beads, and load their 
fingers with a variety of rings ; though, I 
must confess, I have never perceived that they 
wear any in their noses — as has been affirmed 
by many travellers. We have heard much of 
their painting themselves most hideously, 
and making use of bear's-grease in great 
profusion — but this I solemnly assure thee, is 
a misrepresentation ; civilization, no doubt, 
having gradually extirpated these nauseous 
practices. It is true, I have seen two or three 
of these females who had disguised their fea- 
tures with paint, but then it was merely to 
give a tinge of red to their cheeks, and did 
not look very frightful ; and as to ointment, 
they rarely use any now, except occasionally 
a little Grecian oil for their hair, which gives 



it a glossy, greasy, and, as they think, very 
comely appearance. The last mentioned class 
of females, I take it for granted, have been 
but lately caught, and still retain strong traits 
of their original savage propensities. 

The most flagrant and inexcusable fault, 
however, which I find in these lovely savages, 
is the shameless and abandoned exposure of 
their persons. Wilt thou not suspect me of 
exaggeration when I affirm — wilt not thou 
blush for them, most discreet mussulman, 
when I declare to thee — that they are so lost 
to all sense of modesty, as to expose the 
whole of their faces from their forehead to 
the chin, and they even go abroad with 
their hands uncovered ! — Monstrous indeli- 
cacy ! 

But what I am going to disclose, will 
doubtless appear to thee still more incredible. 
Though I cannot forbear paying a tribute of 
admiration to the beautiful faces of these fair 
infidels, yet I must give it as my firm opinion, 
that their persons are preposterously un- 
seemly. In vain did I look around me, on 
my first landing, for those divine forms of re- 
dundant proportions, which answer to the 
true standard of eastern beauty — not a single 
fat fair one could I behold among the multi- 
tudes that thronged the streets : the females 
that passed in review before me, tripping 
sportively along, resembled a procession of 
shadows, returning to their graves at the 
crowing of the cock. 

This meagemess I first ascribed to their 
excessive volubility, for I have somewhere 
seen it advanced by a learned doctor, that the 
sex were endowed with a peculiar activity of 
tongue, in order that they might practise 
talking as a healthful exercise, necessary to 
their confined and sedentary mode of life* — 
This exercise, it was natural to suppose, 
would be carried to great excess in a logo- 
eracy. " Too true," thought I, " they have 
converted what was undoubtedly meant as a 
beneficent gift, into a noxious habit, that 
steals the flesh from their bones and the rose 
from their cheeks — they absolutely talk them- 
selves thin!" Judge then of my surprise 
when I was assured, not long since, that this 
meagemess was considered the perfection of 
personal beauty, and that many a lady starved 
herself, with all the obstinate perseverance of 



SALMAGUNDI. 



127 



a pious dervise, into a fine figure !— " Nay 
more," said my informer, u they will often 
sacrifice their healths in this eager pursuit of 
skeleton beauty, and drink vinegar, eat 
pickles, and smoke tobacco, to keep them- 
selves within the scanty outlines of the 
fashions." — Faugh ! Allah preserve me from 
such beauties, who contaminate their pure 
blood with noxious recipes ; who impiously 
sacrifice the best gifts of heaven, to a prepos- 
terous and mistaken vanity. Ere long I shall 
not be surprised to see them scarring their 
faces like the negroes of Congo, flattening 
their noses in imitation of the Hottentots, or 
like the barbarians of Ab-al Timar, distorting 
their lips and ears out of all natural dimen- 
sions. Since I received this information, I 
cannot contemplate a fine figure, without 
thinking of a vinegar cruet ; nor look at a 
dashing belle, without fancying her a pot of 
pickled cucumbers ! What a difference, my 
friend, between these shades and the plump 
beauties of Tripoli, — what a contrast be- 
tween an infidel fair one and my favourite 
wife, Fatima, whom I bought by the hun- 
dred weight, and had trundled home in a 
wheel-barrow ! 

But enough for the present ; I am pro- 
mised a faithful account of the arcana of a 
lady's toilette — a complete initiation into the 
arts, mysteries, spells and potions, in short 
the whole chemical process, by which she 
reduces herself down to the most fashionable 
standard of insignificance; together with 
specimens of the strait waistcoats, the lacings, 
the bandages, and the various ingenious 
instruments with which she puts nature to 
the rack, and tortures herself into a proper 
figure to be admired. 

Farewell, thou sweetest of slave-drivers ! — 
The echoes that repeat to a lover's ear the 
song of his mistress are not more soothing 
than tidings from those we love. Let thy 
answer to my letters be speedy ; and never, I 
pray thee, for a moment cease to watch over 
the prosperity of my house, and the welfare 
of my beloved wives. Let them want for 
nothing, my friend, but feed them plentifully 
on honey, boiled rice, and water gruel, so 
that when I return to the blessed land of 
my fathers, if that can ever be, I may find 
them improved in size and loveliness, and 



sleek as the graceful elephants that range the 
green valley of Abimar. 

Ever thine, 

MUSTAPHA. 

No. 19. 
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 31, 1807. 

FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR, 

Having returned to town, and once more 
formally taken possession of my elbow-chair, 
it behoves me to discard the rural feelings, and 
the rural sentiments, in which I have for 
some time past indulged, and devote myself 
more exclusively to the edification of the 
town. As I feel at this moment a chivalric 
spark of gallantry playing around my heart, 
and one of those dulcet emotions of cordiality, 
which an old bachelor will sometimes enter- 
tain towards the divine sex, I am determined 
to gratify the sentiment for once, and devote 
this number exclusively to the ladies. I 
would not, however, have our fair readers 
imagine, that we wish to flatter ourselves 
into their good graces ; devoutly as we adore 
them, and what true cavalier does not, and 
heartily as we desire to flourish in the mild 
sunshine of their smiles, yet we scorn to 
insinuate ourselves into their favour, unless 
it be as honest friends, sincere well-wishers, 
and disinterested advisers. If in the course 
of this number they find us rather prodigal of 
our encomiums, they will have the modesty 
to ascribe it to the excess of their own merits ; 
if they find us extremely indulgent to their 
faults, they will impute it rather to the 
superabundance of our good-nature, than to 
any servile and illiberal fear of giving 
offence. 

The following letter of Mustapha falls in 
exactly with the current of my purpose. As 
I have before mentioned that his letters are 
without dates, we are obliged to give them 
very irregularly without any regard to chro- 
nological order. 

The present one appears to have been 
written not long after his arrival, and ante- 
cedent to several already published. It is 
more in the familiar and colloquial style than 
the others. Will Wizard declares he has 
translated it with fidelity, excepting that he 



128 



SALMAGUNDI. 



has omitted several remarks on the waltz, 
which the honest mussulman eulogizes with 
great enthusiasm, comparing it to certain 
voluptuous dances of the seraglio. Will 
regretted exceedingly that the indelicacy of 
several of these observations compelled their 
total exclusion, as he wishes to give all 
possible encouragement to this popular and 
amiable exhibition. 



LETTER 

FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI KHAN, 

To Muley Helim al Raggi, surnamed the 
agreeable Raggamuffin, chief mountebank 
and buffo-dancer to his Highness. 

The numerous letters which I have written 
to our friend the slave driver, as well as those 
to thy kinsman the snorer, and which doubt- 
less were read to thee, honest Muley, have in 
all probability awakened thy curiosity to 
know further particulars concerning the man- 
ners of the barbarians, who hold me in such 
ignominious captivity. I was lately at one of 
their public ceremonies, which, at first, per- 
plexed me exceedingly as to its object ; but 
as the explanations of a friend have let me 
somewhat into the secret, and as it seems to 
bear no small analogy to thy profession, a 
description of it may contribute to thy 
amusement, if not to thy instruction. 

A few days since, just as I had finished my 
coffee, and was perfuming my whiskers pre- 
paratory to a morning walk, I was waited 
upon by an inhabitant of this place, a gay 
young infidel, who has of late cultivated my 
acquaintance. He presented me with a 
square bit of painted pasteboard, which, he 
informed me, would entitle me to admittance 
to the city assembly. Curious to know the 
meaning of a phrase which was entirely new 
to me, I requested an explanation ; when my 
friend informed me, that the assembly was a 
numerous concourse of young people of both 
sexes, who, on certain occasions, gathered 
together to dance about a large room with 
violent gesticulation, and try to out-dress 
each other. " In short," said he, " if you 
wish to see the natives in all their glory, 
there's no place like the city assembly ;— 



so you must go there and sport your 
whiskers.' 

Though the matter of sporting my whis- 
kers was considerably above my apprehen- 
sion, yet I now began, as I thought, to 
understanl him. I had heard of the war 
dances of the natives, which are a kind of 
religious institution, and had little doubt 
but that this must be a solemnity of the 

kind — upon a prodigious great scale 

Anxious as I am to contemplate these strange 
people in every situation, I willingly acceded 
to his proposal ; and, to be the more at ease, 
I determined to lay aside my Turkish dress, 
and appear in plain garments of the fashion 
of this country, as is my custom whenever I 
wish to mingle in a crowd, without exciting 
the attention of the gaping multitude. 

It was long after the shades of night had 
fallen, before my friend appeared to conduct 
me to the assembly. " These infidels," 
thought I, " shroud themselves in mystery, 
and seek the aid of gloom and darkness, to 
heighten the solemnity of their pious orgies." 
resolving to conduct myself with that decent 
respect, which every stranger owes to the 
customs of the land in which he sojourns, 
I chastised my features into an expression of 
sober reverence, and stretched my face into a 
degree of longitude suitable to the ceremony 
I was about to witness. Spite of myself, I 
felt an emotion of awe stealing over my 
senses as I approached the majestic pile. My 
imagination pictured something similar to a 
descent into the cave of Dom -Daniel, where 
the necromancers of the east are taught their 
infernal arts. I entered with the same gravity 
of demeanour that I would have approached 
the holy temple of Mecca, and bowed my head 
three times as I passed the threshold — " Head 
of the mighty Amrou !" thought I, on being 
ushered into a splendid saloon, "What a 
display is here ! surely I am transported to 
the mansions of the Houris, the elysium of 
the faithful !" — How tame appeared all the 
descriptions of enchanted palaces in our 
Arabian poetry ! wherever I turned my eyes, 
the quick glances of beauty dazzled my vision, 
and ravished my heart : lovely virgins flut- 
tered by me, darting imperial looks of con- 
quest, or beaming such smiles of invitation, 
as did Gabriel when he beckoned our holy 



SALMAGUNDI; 



123 



prophet to heaven. Shall I own the weak- 
ness of thy friend, good Muley ?— while thus 
gazing on the enchanted scene before me, I 
for a moment forgot my country, and even 
the memory of my three-and -twenty wives 
faded from my heart ; my thoughts were be- 
wildered and led astray, by the charms of 
these bewitching savages, and I sunk, for a 
while, into that delicious state of mind where 
the senses, all enchanted, and all striving for 
mastery, produce an endless variety of tumul- 
tuous, yet pleasing emotions. Oh, Muley, 
never shall I again wonder that an infidel 
should prove a recreant to the single solitary 
wife allotted him, when, even thy friend, 
armed with all the precepts of Mahomet, 
can so easily prove faithless to three-and- 
twenty ! 

" Whither have you led me?" said I, at 
length, to my companion, " and to whom do 
these beautiful creatures belong ? certainly 
this must be the seraglio of the grand bashaw 
of the city, and a most happy bashaw must 
he be, to possess treasures which even his 
highness of Tripoli cannot parallel." " Have 
a care," cried my companion, "how you 
talk about seraglios, or you'll have all these 
gentle nymphs about your ears ; for seraglio 
is a word which, beyond all others, they 
abhor : — most of them," continued he, " have 
no lord and master, but come here to catch 
one — they're in the market, as we term it." 
"Ah, ha!" said I, exultingly, "then you 
really have a fair, or slave market, such as 
we have in the east, where the faithful are 
provided with the choicest virgins of Georgia 
and Circassia ? — By our glorious sun of Afric, 
but I should like to select some ten or a 
dozen wives from so lovely an assemblage ! — 
pray what would you suppose they might be 
bought for ?" 

Before I could receive an answer, my 
attention was attracted by two or three good- 
looking middle-sized men, who being dressed 
in black, a colour universally worn in this 
country by the muftis and dervises, I imme- 
diately concluded to be high priests, and was 
confirmed in my original opinion that this 
was a religious ceremony. These reverend 
personages are entitled managers, and enjoy 
unlimited authority in the assemblies, being 
armed with swords, with which, I am told, 
K 



they would infallibly put any lady to death, 
who infringed the laws of the temple. They 
walked round the room with great solemnity, 
and, with an air of profound importance and 
mystery, put a little piece of folded paper in 
each fair hand, which I concluded were reli- 
gious talismans, One of them dropped on 
the floor, and I slily put my foot on it, and, 
watching an opportunity, picked it up unob- 
served, and found it to contain some unintel- 
ligible words, and the mystic number 9. — s 
What were its virtues I know not, except 
that I put it in my pocket, and have hitherto 
been preserved from my fit of the lumbago, 
which I generally have about this season of 
the year, ever since I tumbled into the well 
of Zim-zim, on my pilgrimage to Mecca. I 
enclose it to thee in this letter, presuming it 
to be particularly serviceable against the 
dangers of thy profession. 

Shortly after the distribution of these talis- 
mans, one of the high priests stalked into 
the middle of the room with great majesty, 
and clapped his hands three times : a loud 
explosion of music succeeded from a number 
of black, yellow, and white musicians, 
perched in a kind of cage over the grand 
entrance. The company were thereupon 
thrown into great confusion and apparent 
consternation. — They hurried to and fro 
about the room, and at length formed them- 
selves into little groups of eight persons, 
half male and half female ; — the music 
struck into something like harmony, and, in 
a moment, to my utter astonishment and 
dismay, they were all seized with what I 
concluded to be a paroxysm of religious, 
frenzy, tossing about their heads in a ludi- 
crous style from side to side, and indulging 
in extravagant contortions of figure ; — now 
throwing their heels into the air, and anon 
whirling round with the velocity of the 
eastern idolators, who think they pay a 
grateful homage to the sun by imitating his 
motions. I expected every moment to see 
them fall down in convulsions, foam at the 
mouth, and shriek with fancied inspiration. 
As usual the females seemed most fervent in 
their religious exercises, and performed them 
with a melancholy expression of feature that 
was peculiarly touching ; but I was highly 
gratified by the exemplary conduct of several. 

9 



130 



SALMAGUNDI. 



male devotees, who, though their gesticula- 
tions would intimate a wild merriment of the 
feelings, maintained throughont as inflexible 
a gravity of countenance as so many monkeys 
of the island of Borneo at their antics. 

" And pray," said I, " who is the divi- 
nity that presides in this splendid mosque ?" 
The divinity ! — Oh, I understand — you mean 
the belle of the evening ; we have a new one 
every season. — The one at present in fashion 
is that lady you see yonder, dressed in white, 
with pink ribbons, and a crowd of adorers 
.around her." "Truly," cried I, "this is 
the pleasantest deity I have encountered in 
the whole course of my travels ; — so familiar, 
■so condescending, and so merry withal ;— 
why, her very worshippers take her by the 
hand, and whisper in her ear." " My good 
mussulman," replied my friend with great 
gravity, " I perceive you are completely in 
an error concerning the intent of this cere- 
mony. You are now in a place of public 
.amusement, not of public worship ; — and 
the pretty looking young men you see making 
such violent and grotesque distortions, are 
merely indulging in our favourite amuse- 
ment of dancing." " I cry your mercy," 
exclaimed I, "these then are the dancing 
men and women of the town, such as we have 
in our principal cities, who hire themselves 
out for the entertainment of the wealthy ; — 
but pray, who pays them for this fatiguing 
exhibition ?" My friend regarded me for a 
moment with an air of whimsical perplexity, 
as if doubtful whether I was in jest or in 
earnest — " 'Sblood, man," cried he, " these 
are some of our greatest people, our fashion- 
ables, who are merely dancing here for 
amusement." Dancing for amusement!— 
think of that, Muley ! — thou, whose greatest 
pleasure is to chew opium, smoke tobacco, 
loll on a couch, and doze thyself into the 
regions of the Houris ! Dancing for amuse- 
ment ! — shall I never cease having occasion 
to laugh at the absurdities of these barba- 
rians, who are laborious in their recreations, 
and indolent only in their hours of business ? 
Dancing for amusement ! — the very idea 
makes my bones ache, and I never think of 
it without being obliged to apply my hand- 
kerchief to my forehead, and fan myself into 
some degree of coolness. 



" And pray," said I, when my astonish- 
ment had a little subsided, " do these musi- 
cians also toil for amusement, or are they 
confined to their cage, like birds, to sing for 
the gratification of others ? I should think 
the former was the case, from the animation 
with which they flourish their elbows."— 
"Not so," replied my friend, " they are 
veil paid, which is no more than just, for I 
assure you they are the most important per- 
sonages in the room. The fiddler puts the 
whole assembly in motion, and directs their 
movements, like the master of a puppet-show, 
who sets all his paste-board gentry kicking 
by a jirk of his fingers. There now — look 
at that dapper little gentleman yonder, who 
appears to be suffering the pangs of disloca- 
tion in every limb : he is the most expert 
puppet in the room, and performs, not so 
much for his own amusement, as for that of 
the bye-standers." Just then, the little gen- 
tleman, having finished one of his paroxysms 
of activity, seemed to be looking round for 
applause from the spectators. Feeling my- 
self really much obliged to him for his exer- 
tions, I made him a low bow of thanks, but 
no body followed my example, which I 
thought a singular instance of ingratitude. 

Thou wilt perceive, friend Muley, that the 
dancing of these barbarians is totally different 
from the science professed by thee in Tripoli ; 
the country, in fact, is afflicted by numerous 
epidemical diseases, which travel from house 
to house, from city to city, with the regula- 
rity of a caravan. Among these, the most 
formidable is this dancing mania, which pre- 
vails chiefly throughout the winter. It at 
first seized on a few people of fashion, and 
being indulged in moderation was a cheerful 
exercise ; but in a little time, by quick ad- 
vances, it infected all classes of the commu- 
nity, and became a raging epidemic. The 
doctors immediately, as in their usual way, 
instead of devising a remedy, fell together by 
the ears, to decide whether it was native or 
imported, and the sticklers for the latter 
opinion traced it to a cargo of trumpery from 
France, as they had before hunted down the 
yellow-fever to a bag of coffee from the West 
Indies. What makes this disease the more 
formidable, is that the patients seem infa- 
tuated with their malady, abandon themselves 



SALMAGUNDI. 



131 



to its unbounded ravages, and expose their 
persons to wintry storms and midnight airs, 
more fatal, in this capricious climate, than 
the withering Simoom blast of the desert. 

I know not whether it is a sight most 
whimsical or melancholy, to witness a fit of 
this dancing malady. The lady hops up to 
the gentleman, who stands at the distance of 
about three paces, and then capers back again 
to her place ; — the gentleman of course does 
the same ; then they skip one way, then they 
jump another ; — then they turn their backs 
to each other ; — then they seize each other 
and shake hands ; — then they whirl round, 
and throw themselves into a thousand gro- 
tesque and ridiculous attitudes ; — sometimes 
on one leg, sometimes on the other, and 
sometimes on no leg at all : — and this they 
call exhibiting the graces ! By the nineteen 
thousand capers of the great mountebank of 
Damascus, but these graces must be some- 
thing like the crooked backed dwarf Shabrac, 
who is sometimes permitted to amuse his 
Highness by imitating the tricks of a mon- 
key. These fits continue at short intervals 
from four to five hours, till at last the lady 
is led off, faint, languid, exhausted, and 
panting, to her carriage ; — rattles home ; — 
passes a night of feverish restlessness, cold 
perspirations, and troubled sleep ; rises late 
next morning, if she rises at all ; is nervous, 
petulant, or a prey to languid indifference all 
day ; a mere household spectre, neither giv- 
ing nor receiving enjoyment ; in the evening 
hurries to another dance ; receives an unna- 
tural exhilaration from the lights, the music, 
the crowd, and the unmeaning bustle ; — 
flutters, sparkles, and blooms for awhile, 
until the transient delirium being past, the 
infatuated maid droops and languishes into 
apathy again ; — is again led off to her car- 
riage, and the next morning rises to go 
through exactly the same joyless routine. 

And yet, wilt thou believe it, my dear 
Raggi, these are rational beings ; nay, more, 
their countrymen would fain persuade me 
they have souls ! Is it not a thousand times 
to be lamented that beings, endowed with 
charms that might warm even the frigid heart 
of a dervise ; — with social and endearing 
powers, that would render them the joy and 
pride of the harem ; — should surrender them- 
K 2 



selves to a habit of heartless dissipation, 
which preys imperceptibly on the roses of 
the cheek ; which robs the eye of its lustre, 
the mouth of its dimpled smile, the spirits 
of their cheerful hilarity, and the limbs of 
their elastic vigour : — which hurries them off 
in the spring time of existence ; or, if they 
survive, yields to the arms of a youthful 
bridegroom a frame wrecked in the storms of 
dissipation, and struggling with premature 
infirmity. Alas, Muley ! may I not as- 
cribe to this cause, the number of little old 
women I meet with in this country, from the 
age of eighteen to eight-and-twenty ? 

In sauntering down the room, my attention 
was attracted by a smoky painting, which, 
on nearer examination, I found consisted of 
two female figures crowning a bust with a 
wreath of laurel. " This, I suppose," cried 
I, " was some famous dancer in his time ?'" 
— " O, no," replied my friend, " he was 
only a general."—" Good ; but then he must 
have been great at a cotillon, or expert at a 
fiddle-stick — or why is his memorial here ?" 
— " Quite the contrary," answered my com- 
panion, " history makes no mention of his 
ever having flourished a fiddle-stick, 01. 
figured in a single dance. You have, no 
doubt, heard of him : he was the illustrious 
Washington, the father and deliverer of his 
country ; and, as our nation is remarkable 
for gratitude to great men, it always does 
honour to their memory, by placing their 
monuments over the doors of taverns, or in 
the corners of dancing-rooms." 

From thence my friend and I strolled into 
a small apartment adjoining the grand saloon, 
where I beheld a number of grave-looking 
persons with venerable grey heads, but with- 
out beards, which I thought very unbecom- 
ing, seated round a table studying hierogly- 
phics. I approached them with reverence, 
as so many magi, or learned men, endea- 
vouring to expound the mysteries of Egyp- 
tian science: several of them threw down 
money, which I supposed was a reward pro- 
posed for some great discovery, when pre- 
sently one of them spread his hieroglyphics 
on the table, exclaimed triumphantly, " two 
bullets and a bragger !" and swept all the 
money into his pocket. He has discovered a 
key to the hieroglyphics, thought I — happy 



132 



SALMAGUNDI. 



mortal ! — no doubt his name will be immor- 
talized. Willing, however, to be satisfied, 
I looked round on my companion with an in- 
quiring eye : he understood me, and inform- 
ed me that these were a company of friends, 
who had met together to win each other's 
money, and be agreeable. " Is that all ?" 
exclaimed I ; " why then, I pray you, make 
way, and let me escape from this temple of 
abominations, or who knows but these peo- 
ple, who meet together to toil, worry, and 
fatigue themselves to death, and give it the 
name of pleasure — and who win each other's 
money by way of being agreeable — may some 
one of them take a liking to me, and pick 
my pocket, or break my head in a paroxysm 
of hearty good-will !" 

Thy friend, Mustapha. 



BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libero 
Pulsanda tellus. Hor. 

Now is the tyme for wine and myrthful sportes, 
For daunce and song, and disportes of syche sortes. 
Link. Fid. 

The winter campaign has opened. Fashion 
has summoned her numerous legions at the 
sound of trumpet, tamborine, and drum, 
and all the harmonious minstrelsy of the 
orchestra, to hasten from the dull, silent, and 
insipid glades and groves, where they have 
vegetated during the summer ; recovering 
from the ravages of the last winter's cam- 
paign. Our fair ones have hurried to town 
eager to pay their devotions to this tutelary 
deity, and to make an offering at her shrine 
of the few pale and transient roses they ga- 
thered in their healthful retreat. The fiddler 
rosins his bow — the card-table devotee is 
shuffling her pack — the young ladies are in- 
dustriously spangling muslins— and the tea- 
party heroes are airing their chapeaux bra$, 
and pease-blossom breeches, to prepare for 
figuring in the gay circles of smiles, and 
graces, and beauty. Now the fine lady for- 
gets her country friends in the hurry of fa- 
shionable engagements, or receives the sim- 
ple intruder, who has foolishly accepted her 
thousand pressing invitations, with such po- 
liteness, that the poor soul determines never 
to come again :— now the gay buck, who eret 



figured at Ballston and quaffed the pure 
spring, exchanges the sparkling water for 
still more sparkling champagne, and deserts 
the nymph of the fountain, to enlist under, 
the standard of jolly Bacchus. In short, 
now is the important time of the year in 
which to harangue the bon-ton reader ; and, 
like some ancient hero in front of the battle, 
to spirit him up to deeds of noble daring, or 
still more noble suffering, in the ranks of fa- 
shionable warfare. 

Such, indeed, has been my intention ; but 
the number of cases which have lately come 
before me, and the variety of complaints I 
have received from a crowd of honest, and 
well-meaning correspondents, call for more 
immediate attention. A host of appeals,, 
petitions, and letters of advice, are now be- 
fore me ; and I believe the shortest way to 
satisfy my petitioners, memorialists, and ad- 
visers, will be to publish their letters, as I 
suspect the object of most of them is merely 
to get into print. 

TO ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

Sir, — As you appear to have taken to your- 
self the trouble of meddling in the concerns 
of the beau-monde, I take the liberty of ap- 
pealing to you on a subject, which, though 
considered merely as a very good joke, has 
occasioned me great vexation and expense. 
You must know I pride myself on being very 
useful to the ladies — that is, I take boxes 
for them at the theatre, go shopping with 
them, supply them with boquets, and furnish 
them with novels from the circulating library. 
In consequence of these attentions I am be- 
come a great favourite, and there is seldom a 
party going on in the city without my hav- 
ing an invitation. The grievance I have to 
mention, is the exchange of hats which takes 
place on these occasions ; for, to speak my 
mind freely, there are certain young gentle- 
men who seem to consider fashionable parties 
as mere places to barter old clothes : and, I 
am informed, that a number of them manage 
by this great system of exchange to keep 
their crowns decently covered without their 
hatter suffering in the least by it. 

It was but lately that I went to a private 
ball with a new hat, and on returning in the 
latter part of the evening and asking for it, 



SALMAGUNDI. 



1*13 



the scoundrel of a servant, with a broad grin, 
informed me, that the new hats had been 
dealt out half an hour since, and they were 
then on the third quality ; and I was in the 
end obliged to borrow a young lady's beaver 
rather than go home with any of the ragged 
remnants that were left. 

Now I would wish to know if there is no 
possibility of having these offenders punished 
by law; and whether it would not be ad- 
visable for ladies to mention in their cards of 
invitation, as a postscript, " Stealing hats 
and shawls positively prohibited." — At any 
rate, I would thank you, Mr. Evergreen, to 
discountenance the thing totally, by pub- 
lishing in your paper that stealing a hat is 
no joke. 

Your humble Servant, 

Walter Withers. 

My correspondent is informed that the 
police have determined to take this matter 
into consideration, and have set apart Satur- 
day mornings for the cognizance of fashion- 
able larcenies. 

Mr. Evergreen, 
Sir, — Do you think a married woman may 
lawfully put her husband right in a story, 
before strangers, when she knows him to be 
in the wrong ? and can any thing authorise a 
wife in the exclamation of — " Lord, my dear, 
how can you say so !" 

Margaret Timson. 

Dear Anthony, 
Going down Broadway this morning in a 
great hurry, I ran full against an object 
which at first put me to a prodigious non 
plus. Observing it to be dressed in a man's 
hat, a cloth over -coat, and spatter-dashes, I 
framed my apology accordingly, exclaiming, 
44 My dear sir, I ask ten thousand pardons ; — 
I assure you, sir, it was entirely accidental ; — 
pray excuse me, sir," &c. At every one of 
these excuses, the thing answered me with a 
downright laugh ; at which I was not a little 
surprised, until, on resorting to my pocket- 
glass, I discovered that it was no other than 
my old acquaintance Clarir.da Trollop ; I 
never was more chagrined in my life ; for 
being an old bachelor, 1 like to appear as 



young as possible, and am always boasting of 
the goodness of my eyes. I beg of you, Mr. 
Evergreen, if you have any feeling for your 
contemporaries, to discourage this hermaphro- 
dite mode of dress; for really, if the fashion 
take, we poor bachelors will be utterly at a 
loss to distinguish a woman from a man. 
Pray let me know your opinion, Sir, whether 
a lady who wears a man's hat and spatter- 
dashes before marriage, may not be apt to 
usurp some other article of his dress after- 
wards. 

Your humble servant 

Roderic Worry. 

Dear Mr. Evergreen, 

The other night, at Richard the Third, I 
sat behind three gentlemen, who talked very 
loud on the subject of Richard's wooing Lady 
Ann directly in the face of his crimes against 
that lady. One of them declared such an 
unnatural scene would be hooted at in China. 
Pray, Sir, was that Mr. Wizard ? 

Selina Badger. 

P. S. — The gentleman I allude to had a 
pocket-glass, and wore his hair fastened be- 
hind by a tortoise shell comb, with two teeth 
wanting. 

Mr. Evergrin, 
Sir, — .Being a little curious in the affairs of 
the toilette, I was much interested by the 
sage Mustapha's remarks, in your last num- 
ber, concerning the art of manufacturing a 
fine lady. I would have you caution your 
fair readers, however, to be very careful in 
the management of their machinery, as a 
deplorable accident happened last assembly, 
in consequence of the architecture of a lady's 
figure not being sufficiently strong. In the 
middle of one of the cotillons, the company 
was suddenly alarmed by a tremendous 
crash at the lower end of the room ; and on 
crowding to the place discovered that it was 
a fine figure which had unfortunately broken 
down from too great exertion in a pigeon- 
wing. By great good luck I secured the 
corset, which I carried home in triumph ; 
and the next morning had it publicly dis- 
sected, and a lecture read on it at Surgeon's 
Hall. I have since commenced a dissertation 
on the subject, in which I shall treat of the 



i3i 



SALMAGUNDI, 



superiority of those figures manufactured by 
steel, stay-tape, and whalebone, to those formed 
by Dame Nature. I shall show clearly that 
the Venus de Medicis has no pretension to 
beauty of form, as she never wore stays, and 
her waist is in exact proportion to the rest 
of her body. I shall inquire into the mys- 
teries of compression, and how tight a figure 
can be laced without danger of fainting ;. and 
whether it would not be advisable for a 
lady, when dressing for a ball, to be attended 
by the family physician, as culprits are when 
tortured on the rack, to know how much 
more nature will endure. I shall prove that 
ladies have discovered the secret of that no- 
torious juggler, who offered to squeeze himself 
into a quart bottle ; and I shall demonstrate, 
to the satisfaction of every fashionable reader, 
that there is a degree of heroism in pur- 
chasing a preposterously slender waist at the 
expense of an old age of decrepitude and 
rheumatics. This dissertation shall be pub- 
lished, as soon as finished, and distributed 
gratis among boarding-school madams, and 
all worthy matrons who are ambitious that 
their daughters should sit straight, move like 
clock-work, and " do credit to their bringing 
up." In the mean time I have hung up the 
skeleton of the corset in the museum beside a 
dissected weasel and a stuffed alligator ; where 
it may be inspected by all those naturalists 
who are fond of studying the " human form 
divine." 

Yours, &c. 

Julian Cognous 

P. S. — By accurate calculation I find it is 
dangerous for a fine figure, when full dressed, 
to pronounce a word of more than three syl- 
lables. Fine Figure, if in love, may indulge 
in a gentle sigh ; but a sob is hazardous- 
Fine Figure may smile with safety, may even 
venture as far as a giggle ; but must never risk 
a loud laugh. Figure must never play the 
part of a confidante ; as at a tea-party, some 
five evenings since, a young lady whose un- 
paralleled impalpability of waist was the envy 
of the drawing-room, burst with an important 
secret, and had three ribs of her corset frac- 
tured on the spot ! 

Mr. Evergreen, 
Sir, — I am one of those industrious gem- 



men who labour hard to obtain currency in 
the fashionable world. I have gone to great 
expense in little boots, short vests, and long 
breeches : my coat is regularly imported pei 
stage from Philadelphia, duly insured against 
all risks, and my boots are smuggled from 
Bond-street. I have lounged in Broadway 
with one of the most crooked walking-sticks 
I could procure, and have sported a pair of 
salmon-coloured small clothes, and flame- 
coloured stockings, at every concert and ball 
to which I could purchase admission. Being 
affeared that I might possibly appear to less 
advantage as a pedestrian, in consequence of 
my being rather short and a little bandy, 
I have lately hired a tall horse with cropped 
ears and a cocked tail, on which I have joined 
the cavalcade of pretty gemmen, who exhibit 
bright stirrups every fine morning in Broad- 
way, and take a canter of two miles per day, 
at the rate of 300 dollars per annum. But, 
Sir, all this expense has been laid out in 
vain, for I can scarcely get a partner at an 
assembly, or an invitation to a tea-party. — 
Pray, Sir, inform me what more I can do to 
acquire admission into the true stylish circles, 
and whether it would not be advisable to 
charter a curricle for a month and have my 
cypher put on it, as is done by certain dashers 
of my acquaintance. 

Yours to serve, 

Malvolio Dubster. 



TEA,_A POEM. 

FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, 
ESQ. 

And earnestly recommended to the attention 
of all Maidens of a certain age. 

Old time, my dear girls, is a knave who in truth 
From the fairest of beauties will pilfer their youth; 
Who, by constant attention and wily deceit, 
For ever is coaxing some grace to retreat ; 
And, like crafty seducer, with subtle approach, 
The further indulged , will still further encroach. 
Since this " thief of the world" has made off with your 

bloom, 
And left you some score of stale years in its room- 
Has deprived you of all those gay dreams, that would 

dance 
In your brains at fifteen, and your bosoms entrance; 
And has forced you almost to renounce in despair 
The hope of a husband's affection and care- 
Since such is the case, and a case rather hard ! 
Permit one who holds you in special regard, 



SALMAGUNDI. 



135 



To furnish such hints in your loveless estate 

As may shelter your names from distraction and 

hate. 
Too often our maidens, grown aged I ween, 
Indulge to excess in the workings of spleen 
And at times, when annoyed by the slights of man- 
kind, 
Work off their resentment— by speaking their mind : 
Assemble together in snuff-taking clan, 
And hold round the tea-urn a solemn divan. 
A convention of tattling— a tea-party hight, 
Which, like meeting of witches, is brewed up at 

night : 
Where each matron arrives, fraught with tales of 

surprise, 
With knowing suspicion and doubtful surmise ; 
Like the broomstick whirl'd hsgs that appear in 

Macbeth, 
Each bearing some relic of venom or death, 
« To stir up the toil and to double the trouble, 
That fire may burn, and that cauldron may bubble." 

When the party commences, all r tarched and all 

glum, 
They talk of the weather, their corns, or sit mum: 
They will tell you of cambric, of ribands, of lace, 
How cheap they were sold— and will name you the 

place. 
They discourse of their colds, and they hem, and 

they cough, 
And complain of their servants to pass the time off; 
Or list to the tale of some doting mamma, 
How her ten-weeks-old baby will laugh and say taa ! 

But tea, that enlivener of wit and of soul- 
More loquacious by far than the draughts of the 

bowl, 
Soon unloosens the tongue and enlivens the mind, 
And enlightens their eyes to the faults of mankind. 

'Twas thus with the Pythia, who served at the 
fount K 

That flowed near the far-famed Parnassian mount, 
While the steam was inhaled of the sulphuric spring, 
Her vision expanded, her fancy took wing ; 
By its aid she pronounced the oracular will 
That Apollo commanded his sons to fulfil. 
But, alas ! the sad vestal, performing the rite, 
Appeai*ed like a demon — terrific to sight. 
E'en the priests of Apollo averted their eyes, 
And the temple of Delphi resounded her cries. 
But quitting the nymph of the tripod of yore, 
We return to the dames of the tea-pot once more. 

In harmless chit-chat an acquaintance they roast, 
And serve up a friend, as they serve up a toast ; 
Some gentle faux pas or some female mistake, 
Is like sweetmeats delicious, or relished as cake ; 
A bit of broad scandal is like a dry crust, 
It would stick in the throat, so they butter it first 
With a little affected good-nature, and cry 
*No body regrets the thing deeper than I.'» 
Our young ladies nibble a good name in play 
As for pastime they nibble a biscuit away : 
While with shrugs and surmises, the toothless old 

dame, 
As she mumbles a crust she will mumble a name. 



And as the fell sisters astonished the Scot, 
In predicting of Banquo's descendants the lot, 
Making shadows of kings, and flashes of light. 
To appear in array and to frown in his sight, 
So they conjure up spectres all hideous in hue, 
Which, as shades of their neighbours, are passed in 
review. 

The wives of our cits of inferior degree, 
Will soak up repute in a little bohea ; 
The potion is vulgar, and vulgar the slang 
With which on their neighbours' defects they ha- 
rangue ; 
But the scandal improves, a refinement in wrong I 
As our matrons are richer, and rise to souchong. 
With hyson — a beverage that's still more refined, 
Our ladies of fashion enliven their mind, 
And by nods, inuendoes, and hints, and what not, 
Reputations and tea send together to pot. 
While madam in cambrics and laces arrayed ; 
With her plate and her liveries in splendid parade, 
Will drink in imperial a friend at a sup, 
Or in gunpowder blow them by dozens all up. 
Ah, me ! how I groan when with full swelling sail 
Wafted stately along by the favouring gale, 
A China ship proudly arrives in our bay, 
Displaying her streamers and blazing away. 
Oh ! more fell to our port, is the cargo she bears, 
Than grenadoes, torpedoes, or warlike affairs : 
Each chest is a bombshell thrown into our town 
To shatter repute, and bring character down. 

Ye Samquas, ye Chinquas, ye Chouquas, so free, 
Who discharge on our coast your curs'd quantums of 

tea. 
O ! think, as ye waft the sad weed from your strand, 
Of the plagues and vexations ye deal to our land. 
As the Upas' dread breath, o'er the plain where it 

flies, 
Empoisons and blasts each green blade that may 

rise, 
So, wherever the leaves of your shrub find their way, 
The social affections soon suffer decay : 
Like to Java's drear waste they embarren the heart. 
Till the blossoms of love and of friendship depart. 

Ah, ladies, and was it by heaven design 'd, 
Th£tt ye should be merciful, loving, and kind ! 
Did it form you like angels, and send you below 
To prophesy peace — to bid charity flow ! 
And have ye thus left your primeval estate, 
And wandered so widely — so strangely of late? 
Alas ! the sad cause I too plainly can see — 
These evils have all come upon you through tea ! 
Curs'd weed, that can make our fair spirits resign 
The character mild of their mission divine; 
That can blot from their bosoms that tenderness 

true, 
Which from female to female for ever is due .' 
O ! how nice is the texture — how fragile the frame 
Of that delicate blossom, a female's fair fame ! 
'Tis the sensitive plant, it recoils from the breath ; 
And shrinks from the touch as if pregnant with 

death. 
How often, how often, has innocence sigh'd, 
Has beauty been reft of its horour— its pride 



130 



SALMAGCNDI. 



Has virtue ..though pure as sn angel of lifrht, 
Been painted as dark as a demon of night, 
All ofter'd up victims, an auto da fc, 
At the gloomy cabals — the dark orgies of tea ! 

If I, in the remnant that's left me of life, 
Am to suffer the torments of slanderous strife, 
Let me fall, I implore, in the slang-whanger's claw, 
Where the evil is open, and subject to law ; 
Not nibbled, and mumbled and put to the rack, 
By the sly underminings of tea party clack : 
Condemn me, ye gods, to a newspaper roasting, 
But spare me ! O spare me, a tea-table toasting I 



No. 20. 
MONDAY, JANUARY 25, 1808. 

FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

Extremum hunc mihi concede laborum.— Virg. 
'• Soft you, a word or two before we part." 

In this season of festivity, when the gate 
of time swings open on its hinges, and an 
honest rosy-faced New- Year comes waddling 
in, like a jolly fat-sided alderman, loaded 
with good wishes, good humour, and minced 
pies : — at this joyous era it has been the cus- 
tom, from time immemorial, in this ancient 
and respectable city, for periodical writers, 
from reverend, grave, and potent essayists 
like ourselves, down to the humble but in- 
dustrious editors of magazines, reviews, and 
newspapers, to tender their subscribers the 
compliments of the season ; and when they 
have slyly thawed their hearts with a little of 
the sunshine of flattery, to conclude by deli- 
cately dunning them for their arrears of sub- 
scription money. In like manner the carriers 
of newspapers, who undoubtedly belong to 
the ancient and honourable order of literati, 
do regularly at the commencement of the 
year, salute their patrons with abundance of 
excellent advice, conveyed in exceeding good 
poetry, for which the aforesaid good-natured 
patrons are well pleased to pay them exactly 
twenty-five cents. In walking the streets I 
am every day saluted with good wishes from 
old grey-headed negroes, whom I never recol- 
lect to have seen before ; and it was but 
a few days ago, that I was called out to 
receive the compliments of an ugly old 
woman, who last spring was employed by 
Mrs. Cockloft to whitewash my room, and 
put things in order; a phrase which, if 
rightly understood, means little else than 



huddling every thing into holr* and corners, 
so that if I want to find any particular article, 
it is, in the language of an humble but 
expressive saying, — " looking for a needle in 
a haystack." Not recognizing my visitor, 
I demanded by what authority she wished me 
a "Happy New-Year?" Her claim was 
one of the weakest she could have urged, for 
I have an innate and mortal antipathy to this 
custom of putting things to rights : — so 
giving the old witch a pistareen, 1 desired 
her forthwith to mount her broomstick, and 
ride off as fast as possible. 

Of all the various ranks of society the 
bakers alone, to their immortal honour be it 
recorded, depart from this practice of making 
a market of congratulations ; and, in addi- 
tion to always allowing thirteen to the dozen, 
do with great liberality, instead of drawing 
on the purses of their customers at the New- 
Year, present them with divers large, fair, 
spiced cakes ; which, like the shield of 
Achilles, or an Egyptian obelisk, are adorned 
with figures of a variety of strange animals, 
that, in their conformation, out -marvel all 
the wild wonders of nature. 

This honest grey-beard custom of setting 
apart a certain portion of this good-for- 
nothing existence for purposes of cordiality, 
social merriment, and good cheer, is one of 
the inestimable relics handed down to us 
from our worthy Dutch ancestors. In pe- 
rusing one of the manuscripts from my 
worthy grandfather's mahogany chest of 
drawers, I find the new year was celebrated 
with great festivity during that golden age cf 
©ur city, when the reins of government were 
held by the renowned Rip Van Dam, who 
always did honour to the season by seeing out 
the old year ; a ceremony which consisted in 
plying his guests with bumpers, until not 
one of them was capable of seeing. " Truly," 
observes my grandfather, who was generally 
of these parties — " Truly, he was a most 
stately and magnificent burgomaster ! inas- 
much as he did right lustily carouse it with 
his friends about new-year; roasting huge 
quantities of turkeys ; baking innumerable 
minced pies ; and smacking the lips of all 
fair ladies the which he did meet, with such 
sturdy emphasis, that the same might have 
been heard the distance of a stone's throw." 



SALMAGUNDI. 



In his days, according to my grandfather, 
were first invented those notable cakes, hight 
new-year-cookies, which originally were im- 
pressed on one side with the honest burly 
countenance of the illustrious Rip ; and on 
the other with that of the noted St. Nicholas, 
vulgarly called Santaclaus : — of all the saints 
in the calendar the most venerated by true 
Hollanders, and their unsophisticated de- 
scendants. These cakes are to this time given 
on the first of January to all visitors, together 
with a glass of cherry-bounce, or raspberry- 
brandy. It is with great regret, however, 
I observe that the simplicity of this venerable 
usage has been much violated by modern 
pretenders to style ! and our respectable 
new-year cookies, and cherry -bounce, elbowed 
aside by plumb-cake and outlandish-liquors, 
in the same way that our worthy old Dutch 
families are out-dazzled by modern upstarts, 
and mushroom Cockneys. 

In addition to this divine origin of new- 
year festivity, there is something exquisitely 
grateful, to a good-natured mind, in seeing 
every face dressed in smiles : — in hearing the 
oft-repeated salutations that flow spontane- 
ously from the heart to the lips ; — in behold- 
ing the poor, for once, enjoying the smiles of 
plenty, and forgetting the cares which press 
hard upon them, in the jovial revelry of the 
feelings; the young children decked out in 
their Sunday clothes, and freed from their 
only cares, the cares of the school, tripping 
through the streets on errands of pleasure ; — 
and even the very negroes, those holiday 
loving rogues, gorgeously arrayed in cas -off 
finery, collected in juntos at corners, display- 
ing their white teeth, and making the welkin 
ring with bursts of laughter,— loud enough 
to crack even the icy cheek of old winter — 
There is something so pleasant in all this, 
that I confess it would give me real pain to 
behold the frigid influence of modern style 
cheating us of this Jubilee of the heart ; and 
converting it, as it does every other article of 
social intercourse, into an idle and unmeaning 
ceremony. 'Tis the annual festival of good- 
humour : — it comes in the dead of winter, 
when nature is without a charm, when our 
pleasures are contracted to the fire-side, and 
where every thing that unlocks the icy fetters of 
the heart, and sets the genial current flowing, 



should be cherished, as a stray lamb found in 
the wilderness, or a flower blooming among 
thorns and briers. 

Animated by these sentiments, it was 
with peculiar satisfaction I perceived that the 
last new-year was kept with more than ordi- 
nary enthusiasm. It seemed as if the good 
old times had rolled back again, and brought 
with them all the honest, unceremonious in- 
tercourse of those golden days, when people 
were more open and sincere, more moral, and 
more hospitable than now ; when every object 
carried about it a charm which the hand of 
time has stolen away, or turned to a defor- 
mity ; when the women were more simple, 
more domestic, more lovely, and more true ; 
and when even the sun, like a hearty old blade 
as he is, shone with a genial lustre unknown 
in these degenerate days : — in short, those 
fairy times when I was a mad-cap boy, crowd- 
ing every enjoyment into the present mo- 
ment ; — making of the past an oblivion ;_ 
of the future a heaven ; and careless of all 
that was " over the hills and far away. ' — 
Only one thing was wanting to make every 
part of the celebration accord with its ancient 
simplicity — The ladies, who, I write it with 
the most piercing regret, are generally at the 
head of all domestic innovations, most fas- 
tidiously refused that mark of good-will, 
that chaste and holy salute which was so 
fashionable in the happy days of Governor 
Rip and the patriarchs. Even the Miss 
Cocklofts, who belonged to a family that is 
the last entrenchment behind which the man- 
ners of the good old school have retired, 
made violent opposition ; and whenever a 
gentleman entered the room, immediately put 
themselves in a posture of defence : — this 
Will Wizard, with his usual shrewdness, in- 
sists was only to give the visitor a hint thaf 
they expected an attack ; and declares, he 
has uniformly observed, that the resistance of 
those ladies, who make the greatest noise 
and bustle, is most easily overcome. This 
sad innovation originated with my good aunt 
Charity, who was as arrant a tabby as ever 
wore whiskers ; and I am not a little afflicted 
to find that she has found so many followers, 
even among the young and beautiful. 

In compliance with an ancient and venera- 
ble custom, sanctioned by time and our an- 



138 



SALMAGUNDI. 



cestors, and more especially by my own 
inclinations, I will take this opportunity to 
salute my readers With as many good wishes, 
as I can possibly spare ; for in good truth, I 
have been so prodigal of late, that I have but 
few remaining. I should have offered my 
congratulations sooner ; but to be candid, 
having made the last new-year's campaign, 
according to custom, under cousin Christo- 
pher, in which I have seen some pretty hard 
service, my head has been somewhat out of 
order of late, and my intellects rather cloudy 
for clear writing. Besides, I may allege as 
another reason, that I have deferred my greet- 
ings until this day, which is exactly one year 
since we introduced ourselves to the public : 
and surely periodical writers have the same 
right of dating from the commencement of 
their works, that monarchs have from the 
time of their coronation ; or our most puis- 
sant republic, from the declaration of its 
independence. 

These good wishes are warmed into more 
than usual benevolence, by the thought that 
I am now perhaps addressing my old friends 
for the last time. That we should thus cut 
off our work in the very vigour of its ex- 
istence, may excite some little matter of 
wonder in this enlighted community. Now 
though we could give a variety of good rea- 
sons for so doing, yet it would be an ill- 
natured act to deprive the public of such an 
admirable opportunity to indulge in their 
favourite amusement of conjecture ; so we 
generously leave them to flounder in the 
smooth ocean of glorious uncertainty. — 
Besides, we have ever considered it as beneath 
persons of our dignity, to account for our 
movements or caprices ; thank Heaven we 
are not like the unhappy rulers of this en- 
lightened land, accountable to the mob for 
our actions, or dependent on their smiles for 
support : — this much, however, we will say, 
it is not for want of subjects that we stop 
our career. We are not in the situation of 
poor Alexander the Great who wept, as well 
indeed he might, because there were no more 
worlds to conquer ; for, to do justice to this 
queer, odd, rantipole city, and this whimsical 
country, there is matter enough in them, to 
keep our risible muscles and our pens going 
until doomsday. 



Most people, in taking a farewell which 
may perhaps be for ever, are anxious to part 
on good terms : and it is usual on such me- 
lancholy occasions for even enemies to shake 
hands, forget their previous quarrels, and 
bury all former animosities in parting regrets. 
Now because most people do this, I am 
determined to act in quite a different way ;— . 
for as I have lived, so should I wish to die, 
in my own way, without imitating any per- 
son, whatever may be his rank, talents, or 
reputation. Besides, if I know our trio, we 
have no enmities to obliterate, no hatchet to 
bury, and as to all injuries ! — those we have 
long since forgiven. At this moment there 
is not an individual in the world, not even 
the Pope himself, to whom we have any 
personal hostility. But if, shutting their 
eyes to the many striking proofs of good 
nature displayed through the whole course of 
this work, there should be any persons so 
singularly ridiculous as to take offence at our 
strictures, we heartily forgive their stupidity ; 
earnestly entreating them to desist from all 
manifestations of ill-humour, lest they should, 
peradventure, be classed under some one of 
the denominations of recreants we have felt it 
our duty to hold up to public ridicule. Even 
at this moment we feel a glow of parting phi- 
lanthropy stealing upon us : — a sentiment of 
cordial good-will towards the numerous hosts 
of readers that have jogged on at our heels 
during the last year ; and in justice to our- 
selves must seriously protest, that if at any 
time we have treated them a little ungently, 
it was purely in that spirit of hearty affec- 
tion, with which a schoolmaster drubs an 
unlucky urchin, or a humane muleteer his 
recreant animal, at the very moment when 
his heart is brim -full of loving-kindness. If 
this is not considered an ample justification, 
so much the worse ; for in that case I fear we 
shall remain for ever unjustified; — a most 
desperate extremity, and worthy of every 
man's commiseration ! 

One circumstance, in particular, has tickled 
us mightily as we jogged along ; and that is, 
the astonishing secrecy with which we have 
been able to carry on our lucubrations !— 
Fully aware of the profound sagacity of the 
public of Gotham, and their wonderful faculty 
of distinguishing a writer by his style, it is 



SALMAGLNDI. 



130 



with great self-congratulation we find that 
suspicion has never pointed to us as the 
authors of Salmagundi. Our grey-beard 
speculations have been most bountifully at- 
tributed to sundry smart young gentlemen, 
who, for aught we know, have no beards at 
all ; and we have often been highly amused, 
when they were charged with the sin of 
writing what their harmless minds never 
conceived, to see them affect all the blushing 
modesty and beautiful embarrassment of de- 
tected virgin authors. The profound and 
penetrating public, having so long been led 
away from truth and nature by a constant 
perusal of those delectable histories and 
romances, from beyond seas, in which human 
nature is for the most part wickedly mangled 
and debauched, have never once imagined 
this work was a genuine and most authentic 
history ; that the Cocklofts were a real 
family, dwelling in the city ; — paying scot 
and lot, entitled to the right of suffrage, and 
holding several respectable offices in the cor- 
poration As little do they suspect that there 

is a knot of merry old bachelors seated snugly 
in the old-fashioned parlour of an old- 
fashioned Dutch house, with a weathercock 
on the top that came from Holland; who 
amuse themselves of an evening by laughing 
at their neighbours, in an honest way, and 
who manage to jog on through the streets of 
our ancient and venerable city, without el- 
bowing or being elbowed by a living soul. 

When we first adopted the idea of discon- 
tinuing this work, we determined, in order to 
give the critics a fair opportunity for dissec- 
tion, to declare ourselves, one and all, abso- 
lutely defunct; for it is one of the rare and 
invaluable privileges of a periodical writer, 
that by an act of innocent suicide he may 
lawfully consign himself to the grave, and 
cheat the world of posthumous renown. But 
we abandoned this scheme for many substan- 
tial reasons. In the first place, we care but 
little for the opinion of critics, who we con- 
sider a kind of freebooters in the republic of 
letters ; who, like deer, goats, and divers 
other graminivorous animals, gain subsistence 
by gorging upon the buds and leaves of the 
young shrubs of the forest, thereby robbing 
them of their verdure, and retarding their 
progress to maturity. It also occurred to us, 



that though an author might lawfully, in all 
countries, kill himself outright, yet this pri- 
vilege did not extend to the raising himself 
from the dead, if he was ever so anxious, and 
all that is left him in such a case, is to take 
the benefit of the metempsychosis act, and 
revive under a new name and form. 

Far be it, therefore, from us to condemn 
ourselves to useless embarrassments, should 
we ever be disposed to resume the guardian- 
ship of this learned city of Gotham, and 
finish this invaluable work, which is yet but 
half completed. We hereby openly and 
seriously declare that we are not dead, but 
intend, if it pleases Providence, to live for 
many years to come, to enjoy life with the 
genuine relish of honest souls ; careless of 
riches, honours, and every thing but a good 
name, among good fellows ; and with a full 
expectation of shuffling off the remnant of 
existence, after the excellent fashion of that 
merry Grecian, who died laughing. 



TO THE LADIES. 

BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

Next to our being a knot of independent 
old bachelors, there is nothing on which we 
pride ourselves more highly than upon pos- 
sessing that true chivalric spirit of gallantry, 
which distinguished the days of king Arthur, 
and his valiant knights of the Round-table. 
We cannot, therefore, leave the lists where 
we have so long been tilting at folly, without 
giving a farewell salutation to those noble 
dames and beauteous damsels who have 
honoured us with their presence at the tour- 
ney. Like true knights, the only recompense 
we crave is the smile of beauty, and the 
approbation of those gentle fair ones, whose 
smile and whose approbation far excel all 
the trophies of honour, and all the rewards of 
successful ambition. True it is that we have 
suffered infinite perils, in standing forth as 
their champions, from the sly attacks of 
sundry arch caitiffs, who, in the overflowings 
of their malignity have even accused us of 
entering the lists as defenders of the very 
foibles and faults of the sex. Would that we 
could meet with these recreants hand to hand : 
they should receive no more quarter than 
giants and enchanters in romance. 



lid 



SALMAGUNDI. 



Had we a spark of vanity in our natures, 
here is a glorious occasion to show our skill in 
refuting these illiberal insinuations ; but there 
is something manly and ingenuous, in making 
an honest confession of one's offences when 
about retiring from the world ; and so, with- 
out any more ado, we doff our helmets, and 
thus publicly plead guilty to the deadly sin of 
good nature ; hoping and expecting for- 
giveness from our good natured readers, yet 
careless whether they bestow it or not. And 
in this we do but imitate sundry condemned 
criminals; who, finding themselves con- 
victed of a capital crime, with great openness 
and candour, do generally in their last dying 
speech make a confession of all their previous 
offences, which confession is always read with 
great delight by all true lovers of biography. 

Still, however, notwithstanding our no- 
torious devotion to the gentle sex and our 
indulgent partiality, we have endeavoured, 
on divers occasions, with all the polite and 
becoming delicacy of true respect, to reclaim 
them from many of those delusive follies and 
unseemly peccadillos, in which they are un- 
happily too prone to indulge. We have 
warned them against the sad consequences of 
encountering our midnight damps and wither- 
ing wintry blasts — we have endeavoured, 
with pious hand, to snatch them from the 
wildering mazes of the waltz, and thus rescu- 
ing them from the arms of strangers, to 

restore them to the bosoms of their friends 

to preserve them from the nakedness, the 
famine, the cobweb muslins, the vinegar 
cruet, the corset, the stay-tape, the buckram, 
and all the other miseries and racks of a fine 
figure. But above all, we have endeavoured 
to lure them from the mazes of a dissipated 
world, where they wander about, careless of 
their value, until they lose their original 
worth ; and to restore them, before it is too 
late, to the sacred asylum of home, the soil 
most congenial to the opening blossom of 
female loveliness — where it blooms and ex- 
pands in safety, in the fostering sunshine of 
maternal affection, and where its heavenly 
sweets are best known and appreciated. 

Modern philosophers may determine the 

proper destination of the sex they may 

assign to them an extensive and brilliant 
orbit, in which to revolve, to the delight of 



the million and the confusion of man's 
superior intellect ; but when on this subject 
we disclaim philosophy, and appeal to the 
higher tribunal of the heart-r— and what heart 
that has not lost its better feelings, would 
ever seek to repose its happiness on the 
bosom of one, whose pleasures all lay with- 
out the threshold of home — who snatched 
enjoyment only in the whirlpool of dissipa- 
tion, and amid the thoughtless and evane- 
scent gaiety of a ball-room. The fair one 
who is for ever in the career of amusement, 
may for a while dazzle, astonish, and enter- 
tain, but we are content with coldly admiring ; 
and fondly turn from glitter and noise, to 
seek the happy fire-side of social life, there to 
confide our dearest and best affections. 

Yet some there are, and we delight to men- 
tion them, who mingle freely with the world, 
unsullied by its contaminations; — whose 
brilliant minds, like the stars of the firma- 
ment, are destined to shed their light abroad, 
and gladden every beholder with their ra- 
diance — to withold them from the world 
would be doing it injustice : they are inesti- 
mable gems, which were never formed to be 
shut up in caskets ; but to be the pride and 
ornament of elegant society. 

We have endeavoured always to discrimi- 
nate between a female of this superior order, 
and the thoughtless votary of pleasure ; who, 
destitute of intellectual resources, is servilely 
dependant on others for every little pittance 
of enjoyment — who exhibits herself inces- 
santly amid the noise, the giddy frolic, and 
capricious variety of fashionable assem- 
blages — dissipating her languid affections on 
a crowd — lavishing her ready smiles with in- 
discriminate prodigality on the worthy, or 
the undeserving — and listening, with equal 
vacancy of mind, to the conversation of the 
enlightened, the frivolity of the coxcomb, and 
the flourish of the fiddle-stick. 

There is a certain artificial polish a 

common-place vivacity acquired by perpe- 
tually mingling in the beau-monde ; which, 
in the commerce of the world, supplies the 
place of natural suavity and good humour, 
but is purchased at the expense of all origi- 
nal and sterling traits of character. By a 
kind of fashionable discipline, the eye is 
taught to brighten, the lip to smile, and the 



SALMAGUNDI. 



141 



whole countenance to emanate with the sem- 
blance of friendly welcome — while the bosom 
is unwarmed by a single spark of genuine 
kindness, or good will. This elegant simu- 
lation may be admired by the connoisseur of 
character, as a perfection of art ; but the heart 
is not to be deceived by the superficial illu- 
sion : it turns with delight to the timid re- 
tiring fair one, whose smile is the smile of 
nature ; whose blush is the soft suffusion of 
delicate sensibility ; and whose affections, 
unblighted by the chilling effects of dissipa- 
tion, glow with all the tenderness and purity 
of artless youth. Her's is a singleness of 
mind, a native innocence of manners, and 
a sweet timidity, that steal insensibly upon 
the heart, and lead it a willing captive : — 
though venturing occasionally among the 
fairy haunts of pleasure, she shrinks from 
the broad glare of notoriety, and seems to 
seek refuge among her friends, even from the 
admiration of the world. 

These observations bring to mind a little 
allegory in one of the manuscripts of the sage 
Mustapha, which, being in some measure 
applicable to the subject of this essay, we 
transcribe for the benefit of our fair readers. 

Among the numerous race of the Bedouins, 
who people the vast tracts of Arabia Deserta, 
is a small tribe, remarkable for their habits 
of solitude and love of independence. They 
are of a rambling disposition, roving from 
waste to waste, slaking their thirst at such 
scanty pools as are found in those cheerless 
plains, and glory in the unenvied liberty they 
enjoy. A youthful Arab of this tribe, a 
simple son of nature, at length growing weary 
of his precarious and unsettled mode of life, 
determined to set out in search of some per- 
manent abode. " I will seek," said he, 
■" some happy region, some generous clime, 
where the dews of heaven diffuse fertility : — 
I will find out some unfailing stream ; and, 
forsaking the joyless life of my forefathers, 
settle on its borders, dispose my mind to 
gentle pleasures and tranquil enjoyments, 
and never wander more." 

Enchanted by this picture of pastoral feli- 
city, he departed from the tents of his com- 
panions ; and having journeyed during five 
days, on the sixth, as the sun was just rising 
in all the splendours of the east, he lifted up 



his eyes, and beheld extended before him, in 
smiling luxuriance, the fertile regions of 
Arabia the Happy. Gently swelling hills, 
tufted with blooming groves, swept down into 
luxuriant vales, enamelled with flowers of 
never withering beauty. The sun, no longer 
darting his rays with torrid fervour, beamed 
with a genial warmth that gladdened and 
enriched the landscape. A pure and tempe- 
rate serenity, an air of voluptuous repose, a 
smile of contented abundance, pervaded the 
face of nature, and every zephyr breathed a 
thousand delicious odours. The soul of the 
youthful wanderer expanded with delights- 
he raised his eyes to heaven, and almost min- 
gled, with his tribute of gratitude, a sigh of 
regret that he had lingered so long amid the 
sterile solitudes of the desert. 

With fond impatience he hastened to make 
choice of a stream where he might fix his 
habitation, and taste the promised sweets of 
this land of delight.— But here commenced an 
unforeseen perplexity ; for, though he beheld 
innumerable streams on every side, yet not 
one could he find which completely answered 
his high-raised expectations. One abounded 
with wild and picturesque beauty, but it was 
capricious, and unsteady in its course ; some- 
times dashing its angry billows against the 
rocks, and often raging and overflowing its 
banks. Another flowed smoothly along, 
without even a ripple or a murmur ; but its 
bottom was soft and muddy, and its current 
dull and sluggish. A third was pure and 
transparent ; but its waters were of a chilling 
coldness, and it had rocks and flints in its 
bosom. A fourth was dulcet in its tinklings, 
and graceful in its meanderings ; but it had 
a cloying sweetness that palled upon the 
taste ; — while a fifth possessed a sparkling 
vivacity, and a pungency of flavour, that 
deterred the wanderer from repeating his 
draught. 

The youthful Bedouin began to weary 
with fruitless trials and repeated disappoint- 
ments, when his attention was suddenly 
attracted by a lively brook, whose dancing 
waves glittered in the sun-beams, and whose 
prattling current communicated an air of 
bewitching gaiety to the surrounding land- 
scape. The heart of the wayworn traveller 
beat with expectation ; but on regarding i 



142 



SALMAGUNDI. 



attentively in its course, he found that it con- 
stantly avoided the embowering shade ; loi- 
tering with equal fondness, whether gliding 
through the rich valley, or over the barren 
sand ; that the fragrant flower, the fruitful 
shrub, and worthless bramble, were alike fos- 
tered by its waves, and that its current was 
often interrupted by unprofitable weeds. 
With idle ambition it expanded itself beyond 
its proper bounds, and spread into a shallow 
waste of water, destitute of beauty or utility, 
and babbling along with uninteresting viva- 
city and vapid turbulence. 

The wandering son of the desert turned 
away with a sigh of regret, and pitied a stream 
which, if content within its natural limits, 
might have been the pride of the valley, and 
the object of all his wishes. Pensive, mu- 
sing, and disappointed, he slowly pursued his 
now almost hopeless pilgrimage, and had 
rambled for some time along the margin of a 
gentle rivulet, before he became sensible of 
its beauties. It was a simple pastoral stream, 
which, shunning the noon-day glare, pursued 
its unobtrusive course through retired and 
tranquil vales ; now dimpling among flowery 
banks and tufted shrubbery; now winding 
among spicy groves, whose aromatic foliage 
fondly bent down to meet the limpid wave. 
Sometimes, but not often, it would venture 
from its covert to stray through a flowery 
meadow ; but quickly, as if fearful of being 
seen, stole back again into its more congenial 
shade, and there lingered with sweet delay. 
Wherever it bent its course, the face of na- 
ture brightened into smiles, and a perennial 
spring reigned upon its borders. The war- 
blers of the woodland delighted to quit their 
recesses and carol among its bowers ; while 
the turtle-dove, the timid fawn, the soft-eyed 
gazel, and all the rural populace, who joy in 
the sequestered haunts of nature, resorted to 
in its vicinity. Its pure transparent waters 
rolled over snow-white sands, and heaven 
itself was reflected in its tranquil bosom. 

The simple Arab threw himself upon its 
verdant margin ; he tasted the silver tide, and 
it was like nectar to his lips; he bounded 
with transport, for he had found the object of 
his wayfaring, " Here," cried he, " will I 
pitch my tent ; here will I pass my days ; for 
pure, O ! fair stream, is thy gentle current ; 



beauteous are thy borders; and the grove 
must be a paradise that is refreshed by thy 
meanderings 1" 



Pendaut opera interrupta. — Virg. 
The work's all aback.— Link. Fid. 

" How hard it is," exclaims the divine Con- 
futse, better known among the illiterate by 
the name of Confucius, " for a man to bite 
off his own nose !" At this moment, I, 
William Wizard, Esq. feel the full force of 
this remark, and cannot but give vent to my 
tribulation at being obliged, through the 
whim of friend Langstaff, to stop short in my 
literary career, when at the very point of 
astonishing my country, and reaping the 
brightest laurels of literature. We daily hear 
of shipwrecks, of failures and bankruptcies ; 
they are trifling mishaps, which, from their 
frequency, excite but little astonishment or 
sympathy ; but it is not often that we hear 
of a man's letting immortality slip through 
his fingers ; and when he does meet with such 
a misfortune, who would deny him the com- 
fort of bewailing his calamity ? 

Next to the embargo, laid upon our com- 
merce, the greatest public annoyance is the 
embargo laid upon our work : in consequence 
of which the produce of my wits, like that of 
my country, must remain at home ; and my 
ideas, like so many merchantmen in port, or 
redoubtable frigates in the Potomac, moulder 
away in the mud of my own brain. I know 
of few things in this world more annoying 
than to be interrupted in the middle of a 
favourite story, at the most interesting part, 
where one expects to shine ; or to have a con- 
versation broken off just when you are about 
coming out with a score of excellent jokes, not 
one of which but was good enough to m 
every fine figure in corsets literally split her 
sides with laughter. In some such predica- 
ment am I placed at present; and I do protest 
to you, my good-looking and well-beloved 
readers, by the chop-sticks of the immortal 
Josh, I was on the very brink of treating you 
with a full broadside of the most ingenious 
and instructive essays that your precious nod- 
dles were ever bothered with. 

In the first place, I had, with infinite Ja„ 



SALMAGUNDI, 



143 



hour and pains, and by consulting the divine 
Plato, Sanconiathon, Appollonius Rhodius, 
Sir John Harrington, Noah Webster, Lin- 
kum Fidelius, and others, fully refuted all 
those wild theories respecting the first settle- 
ment of our venerable country ; and proved, 
beyond contradiction, that America, so far 
from being, as the writers of upstart Europe 
denominate it, the new world, is at least as 
old as any country in existence, not excepting 
Egypt, China, or even the land of the Assini- 
boils, which, according to the traditions of 
that ancient people, has already assisted at 
the funerals of thirteen suns, and four hun- 
dred and seventy thousand moons ! 

I had likewise written a long dissertation 
on certain hieroglyphics discovered on those 
fragments of the moon, which have lately 
fallen, with singular propriety, in a neigh- 
bouring state, and have thrown considerable 
light on the state of literature and the arts in 
that planet — showing that the universal lan- 
guage which prevails there is High Dutch 
thereby proving it to be the most ancient and 
original tongue, and corroborating the opinion 
of a celebrated poet, that it is the language 
in which the serpent tempted our grandmother 
Eve. 

To support the theatric department I had 
several judicious critiques, ready written, 
wherein no quarter was shown either to authors 
or actors ; and I was only waiting to deter- 
mine at what plays or performances they 
should be levelled. As to the grand spec- 
tacle of Cinderella, which is to be represented 
this season, I had given it a most unmerciful 
handling : showing that it was neither tra- 
gedy, comedy, nor farce — that the incidents 
were highly improbable — that the prince 
played like a perfect harlequin — that the 
white mice were merely powdered for the 
occasion — and that the new moon had a most 
outrageous copper nose. 

But my most profound and erudite essay 
in embry© is an analytical, hypercritical re- 
view of these Salmagundi lucubrations ; which 
I had written partly in revenge for the many 
waggish jokes played off against me by my 
confederates, and partly for the purpose of 
saving much invaluable labour to the Zoi- 
luses and Dennises of the age, by detecting 
and exposing all the similarities, resem- 



blances, synonymes, analogies, coincidences, 
&c. &c, which occur in this -work. 

I hold it downright plagiarism for any 
author to write, or even to think, in the same 
manner with any other writer that either did, 
doth, or may exist. It is a sage maxim of 
law, " Ignorantia neminem excusat " — and 
the same has been extended to literature : so 
that if an author shall publish an idea that 
has been ever hinted by another, it shall be 
no exculpation for him to plead ignorance of 
the fact. All, therefore, that I had to do was 
to take a good pair of spectacles, or a mag- 
nifying glass, and with Salmagundi in hand 
and a table full of books before me, to mouse 
over them alternately, in a corner of Cock- 
loft library ; carefully comparing and con- 
trasting all odd ends, and fragments of sen- 
tences. Little did honest Launce suspect, 
when he sat lounging and scribbling in his 
elbow-chair, with no other stock to draw upon 
than his own brain, and no other authority to 
consult than the sage Linkum Fidelius !— 
little did he think that his careless, unstudied, 
effusions would receive such scrupulous in- 
vestigation. 

By laborious researches, and patiently col- 
lating words, where sentences and ideas did not 
correspond, I have detected sundry sly dis- 
guises and metamorphoses, of which, I'll be 
bound, Langstaff himself is ignorant. Thus, 
for instance — The Little Man in Black, is 
evidently no less a personage than old Goody 
Blake, or Goody Something, filched from the 
Spectator, who confessedly filched her from 
Otway's " wrinkled hag, with age grown 
double." My friend Launce has taken the 
honest old woman, dressed her up in the 
cast-off suit worn by Twaits, in Lampedo, 
and endeavoured to palm the imposture upon 
the enlightened inhabitants of Gotham — -No 
further proof of the fact need be given, than 
that Goody Blake was taken for a witch ; and 
the little man in black for a conjurer ; and 
that they both lived in villages, the inha- 
bitants of which were distinguished by a most 
respectful abhorrence of hobgoblins and broom- 
sticks ; to be sure the astonishing similarity 
ends here, but surely that is enough to prove 
that the little man in black is no other than 
Goody Blake in the disguise of a white witch. 
Thus, also, the sage Mustapha, in mis- 



144 



SALMAGUNDI. 



taking a brag-party for a convention of magi 
studying hieroglyphics may pretend to origi- 
nality of idea and to a familiar acquaintance 
with the black-letter literati of the east ; but 
this Tripolitan trick will not pass here. I 
refer those who wish to detect his larceny to 
one of those wholesale jumbles, or hodge- 
podge collections of science, which, like a 
tailor's Pandemonium, or a giblet pie, are 
receptacles for scientific fragments of all sorts 
and sizes. The reader, learned in dictionary 
studies, will at once perceive I mean an ency- 
clopedia. There, under the title of magi, 
Egypt, cards, or hieroglyphics, I forget 
which, will be discovered an idea similar to 
that of Mustapha, as snugly concealed as 
truth at the bottom of a well, or the misletoe 
amid the shady branches of an oak : and it 
may at any time be drawn from its lurking 
place, by those hewers of wood and drawers 
of water, who labour in the humbler walks of 
criticism. This is assuredly a most unpar- 
donable error of the sage Mustapha, who had 
been the captain of a ketch : and of course, 
as your nautical men are for the most part 
very learned, ought to have known better. 
But this is not the only blunder of the grave 
mussulman, who swears by the head of Am- 
rou, the beard of Barbarossa, and the sword 
of Khalid, as glibly as our good christian 
soldiers anathematize body and soul, or a 
sailor his eyes and odd limbs. Now I so- 
lemnly pledge myself to the world, that in all 
ray travels through the east, in Persia, Ara- 
bia, China, and Egypt, I never heard man, 
woman, or child, utter any of those prepos- 
terous and new-fangled asseverations ; and 
that, so far from swearing by any man's head, 
it is considered, throughout the east, the 
greatest insult that can be offered to either the 
living or dead to meddle in any shape even 
with his beard. — These are but two or three 
specimens of the exposures I would have 
made ; but I should have descended still 
lower, nor would have spared the most insig- 
nificant and, or but, or nevertheless, provided 
I could have found a ditto in the Spectator or 
the dictionary ; but all these minutiae I be- 
queath to the Lilliputian literati of this saga- 
cious community, who are fond of hunting 



" such small deer," and I earnestly pray they 
may find fit 11 employment for a twelvemonth 
to come. 

. But the most outrageous plagiarisms of 
friend Launcelot are those made on sundry 
living personages. Thus: Tom Straddle has 
been evidently stolen from a distinguished 
Brummagem emigrant, since they both ride 
on horseback ; Dabble, the little great man, 
has his origin in a certain aspiring counsellor, 
who is rising in the world as rapidly as the 
heaviness of his head will permit ; mine uncle 
John will bear a tolerable comparison, part'-- 
cuiarly as it respects the sterling qualities of 
his heart, with a worthy, yeoman of West- 
chester county ; and to deck out aunt Charity, 
and the amiable Miss Cocklofts, he has rifled 
the charms of half the ancient vestals in the 
city. Nay, he has taken unpardonable liber- 
ties with my own person ! — elevating me on 
the substantial pedestals of a worthy gentle- 
man from China, and tricking me out with 
claret coats, tight breeches, and silver-sprigged 
dickeys, in such sort that I can scarcely re- 
cognize my own resemblance— whereas I ab. 
solutely declare that I am an exceeding good- 
looking man, neither too tall nor too short, 
too old nor too young, with a person indif- 
ferently robust, a head father inclining to be 
large, an easy, swing in my walk, and that I 
wear my own hair, neither queued, nor 
cropped, nor turned up, but in a fair, pendu- 
lous, oscillating club, tied with a yard of 
nine-penny black riband. 

And now, having said all that occurs to me 
on the present pathetic occasion — having made 
my speech, wrote my eulogy, and drawn my 
portrait — I bid my readers an affectionate 
farewell ; exhorting them to live honestly and , 
soberly — paying their taxes, and reverencing, 
the state, the church, and the corporation — 
reading diligently the bible, the almanack, the- 
newspaper, and Salmagundi, which is all the 
reading an honest citizen has occasion for — 
and eschewing all spirit of faction, discontent, 
irreligion, and criticism. 

Which is all at present, 

From their departed friend, 

William Wizard. 



Printed and Published by J. Limbird, 143, Strand. 



LR f JV?8 



